


heartbreak hero

by acastle



Series: heart on the line [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Radio, Heartbreak, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acastle/pseuds/acastle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So you want me to hear your side of things?" </p><p>"Yes, that would be a start." </p><p>"Fine,” Niall steps forward, so he and Harry are practically nose to nose. “Come back tomorrow at 8, so you can air your side of the situation on my segment.”</p><p>In which Niall is a love guru of sorts on the radio, who thinks love is the bane of the world, and Harry is a fuckboy who’s lovely, surely, but is not the best boyfriend in the world, not by a long shot. His girl breaks up with him while on air with Niall, and Harry isn’t having that, so he forces Niall to help him win her back.</p><p>(Alternatively, Niall’s Guide On How to Win Back the Girl, patent pending. It should work, in theory.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	heartbreak hero

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if I don’t have Nick Grimshaw down as a character, or if there are any discrepancies in how his show is presented or formatted and the other presenters and statistics and the like. I’ve never actually fully listened to the Breakfast Show, because timezones are confusing. Also, Niall is a little harsh and insensitive to his listeners aha. So, please, suspend disbelief. On another note, the Gemma in this fic is not Harry’s sis, but Gemma Janes. Thank you!
> 
> edit: Must warn you of the use of the term 'fuckboy', multiple times. I didn't mean to make anyone uncomfortable, I'm sorry. Thank you for telling me.

"Good morning, good morning!" Grimmy yells into the microphone, eyes twinkling with mirth and excitement. “Welcome to the third hour of the Breakfast Show, and as you lot have probably heard by now, we’ve decided to introduce a new segment today. Got a love problem? My mate Niall's got you covered."

"Well that was pretty lackluster, not the greatest introduction, Grimshaw," Niall says into his own mic, grinning and fiddling around with his laptop, checking out the Tweets coming in from the listeners. "I'll be fired before the end of the week, because you wouldn't do your job properly."

"Don't be a wanker, Irish!" he laughs, ignoring the horrified looks of the producers on the other side of the glass. "If you couldn't tell by the accent, ladies and gents, Niall's Irish!"

"Ireland!"

"Ireland!" Nick says, fist pumping the air and jabbing at the audioplayer board, a shrill _'top o’ the morning!'_ ringing out, a new sound effect he'd gotten since it was announced Niall would be joining him on the show. "Anyway, Niall here? He's a love expert."

"Not a troll, mind-"

"Nope! Not heavy as stone either, but he's just as cute, if not more, and if you ask nicely, he might even sing! A fixer-upper, he is," he says with a cheek pinch, which Niall audibly groans at. "Just pinched his cheek, everyone! Still adorable."

"Get on with it, git," Niall says with a great laugh, and getting a pinch at one of Nick's nipples, the twat.

"Right! This is Heartbreak Hero with NiNi!"

"We vetoed out the 'NiNi!'"

“Who vetoed it?”

“I did, eejit!” Niall laughs again, and Grimmy follows, hitting the board again to play the applause. He looks at Niall with a softer smile after, though. Quiet, and meant just for him, and it does wonders to calm the nerves he had.

With a nod from Nick and the producers, Niall says into his microphone, “Hello everyone. I’m Niall Horan, and I’m your Heartbreak Hero. Now, before you start goin’ off on me, I’m not claiming to be an expert on love. I’m not claiming to know how to solve your problems, or anything like that. But I do know what it’s like, to fall in love, to fall out of it. To be heartbroken. And sometimes, what we really need to hear is an honest voice, someone who will tell you as it is. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, but I’d like to be that voice for you. I want to maybe be the person who will tell you the truth the way you need to hear it.”

Nick’s smiling at him, and he gets a nipple twist. Niall takes it as a gesture of love.

“You can send in your love woes through Twitter, @NiallOfficial, with the hashtag #HeartbreakHero,” Niall says, Twitter open and ready in front of him, “or, if you’re brave enough, call in at 03700 100 100. I don’t know if I’ll give you the right advice, but it will be the honest, no shits one.”

“Oohhh, be gentle with your language, NiNi, _top o’ the morning_ , you know?” Nick says, all too happy. The producers are shaking their heads, but funnily, it doesn’t discourage him. Not really.

“Sorry, I’m Irish, I love to cuss, sorry, but don’t be afraid of me because of that! I’ll keep the swearing to a minimum,” Niall grins into his mic, and he’s looking down at his phone. He’s got around thirty tweets coming in, which is a lot more than he was expecting, actually. Some are digs at him, calling him many different names, the worst of which was sun-bleached leprechaun (which was pretty pathetic, in all honesty, these people don’t know how to insult for shit), but he expected that, too. A minute later, after Nick’s winded on about the magical combination of figs and proscuitto, what a twat, they’re directing a call for him to answer.

Jesus. He’d been fully prepared to force Grimmy into being his first ‘patient,’ make him talk about that one time he and Douglas had drunkenly made out, but.

Maybe it’s the Irish charm. In any case, he’s grateful.

*

First caller ends up being a girl named Barbara, and her heavily accented voice indicates she’s not from these parts, either. Says her boy is sweet, takes her out on nice dates and they go see movies together, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint that she’d like to move forward with whatever they have-

 _“-And I don’t know. The signals he sends are so mixed,”_ she finishes, and even through the phone, she sounds like she’s frowning.

“Well, there’s a term for guys like this, and I’m not allowed to say it on air, love,” he says, frowning along with her. “He good looking?”

 _“I would say so, yeah,”_ she replies.

“He doesn’t know what he wants though, am I right in assuming?”

_“...Well, he’s hardly ever decisive.”_

“Ever caught him with someone else? On his phone too much or cancelling plans too often?”

Her silence is pretty telling.

“Then break it off.”

_“I don’t know if I can, I. I think I love-”_

“Don’t,” Niall cuts her off, and here it comes. This is what the station hired him for, and he’s got no idea _why_ , it’s pretty horrible, and Grimmy’s already steeling himself. Leaning back in his chair and reaching for his prissy Starbucks drink. “Don’t finish that sentence. How long have you known him?”

_“A few weeks.”_

“A few weeks is hardly ever enough time for a person to really gage how they feel about another,” Niall says frankly. “I don’t think it’s fair to yourself if you call what you feel for this person as ‘love.’ Don’t give yourself that misfortune.”

_“Then what should I do?”_

“Stop it. Break it off. Leave while you can, save yourself from the heartache, love,” Niall tells her, straight to the point. “It’s hardly ever worth it in the end.”

_“But I really do lo-”_

“Don’t don’t don’t, lalalalalala,” Niall sings and placing his hands over the headphones. “Don’t say it, I will cut the line, lalala.”

“Really going for it, Nialler,” Grimmy says with a grin, toasting to him.

“‘Course, expect nothing less,” Niall says with a wink, and he’s back to serious mode, telling Barbara, “Don’t do this to yourself. You’re so brave for calling in, and wanting to fix something that doesn’t deserve to be fixed, but there’s a word for this kind of thinking. Can you guess what it is?”

She takes a moment, but eventually, she answers slowly, resignedly, _“stupidity.”_

“Right there, love,” Niall says, hitting his own audio board and the _‘ding’_ that follows resounds in the room. “Break it off. You know, there’s nothing wrong with separating yourself from people who’ll just hurt you in the end. Sometimes, the people you fall for just aren’t ready to catch you.”

She’s silent again for a moment, but she says, _“Well, doesn’t that seem appropriate.”_

“Too right,” Grimmy jumps in, grinning at Niall with a thumbs up, and he makes to cut the line, saying, “Thank you, Barbara, you brave soul. Now, wasn’t that something?”

“Something,” Niall says, leaning back in his own chair and smiling a bit. First call down. Hopefully many more to go, but he’s not getting his hopes up. People could very well be picketing him the next day, or something. He’s got no idea how he got this job, but.

He looks down to check his phone, and. Shit.

His eyes widen when he sees that the hashtag is trending, second in the topics list in the UK, a less than a minute after the carnage. He’s got at least a hundred new followers as well, and the line is jacked up with callers.

“Well, something is definitely a word for it,” Grimmy says, eyeing Niall from across the table with a knowing glint in his eye. He shows his phone to Niall, and the topics _‘don’t don’t don’t lalalala,’_ and _‘#wasnotcaught’_ are going up the trends list.

 _This. This is something special_ , unspoken but definitely there.

*

_“-Niall, I mean, what should I do? My girl left me.”_

“Yeah, mate? Where’d she leave you, let me pick you up, let’s go for a few pints, I’m in need of one.”

*

_“I don’t think I can handle the pain. I loved him too much-”_

“Need an ambulance? Let me go call one for you, should be there once you get yourself together-”

*

_“What can I do to get this guy to notice me, I’ve been sending him clues for so long.”_

“Have you tried...What’s that thing called, Grimmy? Where you get down on the ground and stay still?”

“Was it, planking? Planking, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I think that was it. Have you tried that, petal? Should work. If all else fails, he might even trip on you.”

*

_“-I need closure, Nialler. So many years together, down the drain.”_

“Okay, since you asked for it,” he sighs, and he grabs the nearest book, one of the heavy as shit manuals for the equipment, and he brings it up near the mic, and slams it closed, making sure it makes the loudest noise possible. “That enough for you?”

“Heartbreak Hero, coming to you from the depths of hell,” Nick says, jabbing at the board so an evil laugh comes on.

“All your exes say hi,” Niall replies coolly, replaying the audio himself.

*

He gets forty-two thousand more followers by the end of his second week. Which is, beyond mad.

He thinks he’s answered at least eighty calls, and hundreds of Tweets on air. Replied to thousands more online.

His hour on the Breakfast Show always manages to trend at least three topics every day.

Something special, really.

*

**  
**  


"On fire today, NiNi!" Grimmy says as they go on a long advert break, switching the mics off. "Bet you anything people will be yelling _'PRETENTIOUS GRAPEFRUIT'_ at you forever."

"Not my greatest quip, but it just came out," he shrugs, and he's getting out of his chair and out of the booth. "Poor lad, though. Deserves someone better, a hotter bloke, yeah? Do you know Beckham's number? Met him once, he's like, the literal definition of perfect. Can you give him a call, set this guy up with him?"

"No way, I'd sooner take Beckham before setting him up with someone else, excuse you, Irish," he replies with a huff as they settle in the couch in the control room. "You see the ratings report?"

"What? That's out already?" Niall says as he sits down beside him.

"Just this morning, before my shift started," Nick tells him, and he's got this great big smile on his face. He stretches to grab at a folder on the desk where the mixers are, and hands it over to him. "Read it."

Niall eyes the report with apprehension, and he'd never thought he'd look at a pile of papers with so much fear before.

Grimy rolls his eyes, and shoves it into his lap, opening it and pointing at the lower portion of the first page.

"Look there. From 8:30 to 9:30-"

' _"-Listener percentage spikes up by 67%,'_ " Niall read aloud, not quite believing. The line chart looks quite unreal. Like a bloody Mount Everest amongst hills. _"'Listener share is also up by 21%, increasing BBC 1's total share to a total of 46%,"_ he reads on, and he glances at the pie chart. _Christ._ Their share of it takes up almost half of the whole thing. Unbelievable.

"Your hour specifically gets an increase of at least 800,000 more listeners for my show, NiNi," Grimmy tells him with this grin. "That's kind of unheard of, you realize?"

"Jesus, Nick," Niall breathes out, the data of the report still no sinking in. "I. Grimmy. Thank you so much, I. Shitting fuck-"

"You so deserve this, Nialler," he says, giving him a side hug."One of the hardest working people I know and no one better could have gotten this break."

"If you didn't put a good word in for me in the first place-"

"I had very, very little to do with this, Niall," Grimmy tells him, putting the folder aside. "Your Irish charm and street smarts got you this job. Christ, mate, it seems like you're the one doing the favor for me."

"Don't be a twat-"

"Don't! Don't don't lalalalala," Grimmy sings, and to date, it's still what he's most known for, gets it at least ten times a day on Twitter. He's quite proud of it, to be honest. It was a sick melody. Could have used better lyrics, though.

"Keep it up, Nialler," he says, tangling his long limbs with Niall as he tackles him deeper into the sofa. "Only a month in and changing the game already. I'm so proud of you. So proud."

Niall won't admit it, but he gets a little choked up at his words. Fights back the tears, because he'll never ever hear the end of it if the twat sees. Knowing Grimmy, he'll probably take a video and post it online. Wanker.

*

Niall's just gone downstairs to get a glass of water from the kitchen when he sees he's not alone in the house.

"Liam!" he gasps when he sees his roommate sprawled out on the couch watching television, looking tired but smiling all the same, and Niall jumps on top of him, hugging him with his entire body. "What're you- you're not supposed to be back until  tomorrow afternoon-"

"Skipped out on the after parties, would rather be here with my best mate, missed you too much Nialler," Liam holds him round the middle and hugs him back.

"Sorry I couldn't go to the show, got an early arsing call time-"

"I get it, you know I do," Liam ruffles his hair affectionately, and Niall's missed him, so much.

"How was the O2?" Niall asks him, stretching his legs to flop over Liam's.

"Mad, really mad, it was amazing, probably the best crowd ever," he replies, smiling at the memory. "Wanted you to be there, though, arenas are always better when you're around-"

"Soph missed me, then?"

"Starting to think she likes you more than me, mate," he answers, holding him as Niall nuzzles into his neck. "Need to fly you over when we go to Australia, make Grimmy give you a few weeks off."

"Not bloody likely, that man is not my boss," Niall scoffs, and he settles next to him, staring at the TV screen. "So you've got a break?"

"Next leg is in three months, first show in Hong Kong," he replies, hands patting Niall's legs. "I'll be around to annoy you for a bit, yeah? I've been listening in, though. You're doing so great, Niall. Mark and everyone look forward to listening to your show than they do my own set."

"Course they do, they've got great taste," he replies, slapping Liam's hand away when he goes to twist his nipple.

"So proud of you, bro," Liam hugs him, "you've worked so hard-"

"Maybe now I'll be known as something other than Liam Payne's best friend, the one who never leaves his side, yeah?" Niall jokes. "There are enough people in the world who believe that you, me and Soph are in a three-way relationship to make up a Facebook fanpage for us."

"Ooh, what do they call us?"

"Nophiam," Niall replies in all seriousness, and Liam nods solemnly.

_"Are R &B superstar Zayn Malik and fiancé Perrie Edwards expecting a baby? Sources have told us this is So True-"_

Niall freezes, goes to look at the screen immediately, sees Zayn with his arm around Perrie walking down the red carpet from the VMA's four months ago, and the words filter in through his ears.

Liam goes to change the channel, but Niall stops him, holding the remote down over his lap.

_"-last seen in public a few weeks ago in vacation in Paris, sources told E! News that Malik and Edwards, who came out publicly as a couple early this year, are expecting the baby possibly as soon as Christmas-"_

Liam manages to press the button on the remote and changes the channel, but he doesn't pay attention to the program. Just looks carefully at Niall, waits for his reaction.

"Well, at least the rest of the world knows, now," is what he says, and he gives a small smile.

He knows Liam isn't completely convinced, but he humors him. Holds Niall close and yells along with him when Adam and Blake argue over another pretty face.

*

"Harry, I think that's enough-"

"Noooo, come on, have a little sense of adventure, love," Harry grins at her, tipping back his head and downing another shot. This one tastes like roses, he thinks. Pink roses. Sick.

"Harry," Kendall says, and she's frowning, throwing her hair back over her shoulder as she huffs at him. "I think we should be getting back, it's late."

"Kennnnnn," he drawls, and he's leaning his head down a bit, holding her face in his hands. "Come on, stay. Everyone's here, it'll be a sick time."

"We've been here two hours already."

"It's only a bit past midnight, love," he tries to convince her with a shit whisper. "Come on."

"Harry, don't be a dick, take your girlfriend home," Eleanor says from where she and Louis and the rest of their 'study group' is seated. "Come back here afterwards if you want to stay so badly."

"Why shouldn't he want for her to stay, though?" Louis says, hanging off of her and taking a swig from his bottle. Harry's pretty sure there's a snake or something at the bottom, or maybe he's just that pissed. "Kendall hasn't really seen the London nightlife. She should experience it at least once, yeah? See Harry in his element, yeah? For the twat that he is-"

"Fuck off, Lou, you're supposed to be reading up on your cases," Harry yells at him, and it comes out much slower than he intended. Then a waiter passes by, a tray of those adorable coral-colored shots balanced on his shoulder. "Ooohhhh, what's that-"

"Come on, you don't need to get entangled in what's about to happen," Eleanor says, pulling Kendall into the empty space in the booth next to her, and Harry's following the waiter, who is actually fit as hell from behind. Well, that was a plus.

"Hiiiii," he greets him, and the waiter turns around to look at him. Oh, he's _really_ fit. Hair that's not quite gray but getting there, and great, great scruff. He squints his eyes to read his nametag, and he grins, "Hello, Phil. I'd like a shot of whatever that is, please."

"You look pretty out of it, mate,” is Phil’s reply, and a sly smirk. "Don't think you should get more than what you can handle."

"I can handle more than you think!" Harry thinks he yells, and it would be bad, but he's too drunk to really care at this point. "Think I can handle you, too-"

"Alright, I don't doubt that," Phil tells him, and he's smiling a bit as Harry comes closer, placing his hand on his chest. Very hard, very fit.

"Can I see your abs?"

"What?" Phil laughs at him, but he doesn't say no, so Harry, without thinking, begins to unbutton Phil's shirt with one hand, looking back at his group who are all appalled.

"50 quid for Phil's abs!" he grins, and Louis and Matty seem to amuse him a bit, offering counter offers, but the girls don't look too pleased. Kendall is flat out frowning, glaring at him.

It takes him no time to get his shirt open, and when he glances back, he does a double-take at the definition and near perfection of his body. "Phil! You're so fucking fit! Are you a trainer or something, can you help me, my hips aren't as defined as I want them to be-"

"That's enough, Harry," Eleanor walks over to him, grab in his arm and pulling him back to the group despite his whines of protest. "Stop being a twat, you're being a really shit boyfriend."

"Hey, it was all in good fun, El," Harry says, booping her nose. She gives him a withering stare in return, and he goes on to say, "Not like I was ping to hook up with him, I just wanted to see his abs-"

"It doesn't matter, Harry, it was still stupid," Eleanor says, and being the good friend that she is, is giving him a bottle of water for him to drink, to help him sober down. "And if you haven't noticed, Kendall's gone off, wasn't very happy with you."

Harry feels a tiny bit more awake at that, and he looks around their booth to see that she isn't there. He feels slightly guilty, but he'll make it up to her, somehow. Leans back in his seat and flags down another waiter and asks for a beer and spends the rest of the night laughing with Lou and Matt and ignoring El's glares.

He spent the night not knowing that things would go to shit, the next morning.

*

"You're the worst," Louis groans as Harry pushes him into the passenger seat. "You drank loads more than I did, how are you so awake-"

"Drank like eight glasses of water before leaving the bar, cheers, El," he answers, beaming at her from where she's comfortably seated in the back, surrounded by pillows, and she waves him off, busy replying to some work emails on her phone.

"Why didn't you make me sober up, love?" Louis pouts, and she snorts, still looking down at the screen of her phone.

"You spat out the water when you realized it wasn't vodka, Lou," she replies coolly, and she looks up at Harry, says, "we need to leave now if we want to get to Brighton by lunch."

"Right-o," he says, and he straps himself in the driver's seat. "Buckle in-"

"Why are we going to Brighton, anyway?"

"Because you wanted to go to the beach, Louis, you said yesterday four tequila shots in," Harry says cheerfully, and Louis smacks the back of his head as he groans again, loudly.

"Why'd you take me seriously, I was drunk."

"Whatever, I wanted to go to the beach anyway," Eleanor says, and as usual, her word goes.

*

The arguing begins not twenty minutes into the drive.

"What the fuck is this, those can't be real words-"

"Sigur Ros, Lou!" Harry says, slapping at Louis's hand when he tries to change the station. "Hoppipolla! Iceland!"

"It's too early for your new wave, hipster indie shit, Haz-"

"That song is ten years old, Louis love," El says sleepily from the backseat.

"Too early!" Louis reiterates, and before Harry can stop him, he's changed the station.

Nick Grimshaw and that loud, brash Irish bloke, Niall, Harry's mind supplies, are laughing over something stupid, surely, and really. It's too early for _this_.

"Shit, we've missed the first caller," Louis pouts, but he's almost immediately appeased when Niall accepts another caller with a cheerful, _"Hello! Heartbreak Hero on for you! What's your name, love?"_

_"Hi, I'm Kendall."_

The car goes deadly silent at the familiar voice. Harry goes pale and doesn't dare look at Eleanor in the mirror or, god forbid, Louis, next to him.

_"Morning Kendall, love! What seems to be the problem?"_

_"Well, I'm from California, and I'm in London for college and some modeling jobs,"_ she begins, and Harry can feel his palms get slippy on the wheel, trying to focus on the road in front of him as he listens to his girlfriend talk. _"Being from another country, and I'm not so outgoing, you know, I wanted to make a good impression. Not seem so lost, so I made some friends in school, at work, and I met this guy through one of the models I've worked with. On paper, he's gorgeous. Green eyes, tall, tattooed, great hair, but he's. Problematic."_

_"Problematic? In what way?"_

_"Problematic in the way that he flirted with a waiter in the bar we were in last night,"_ Kendall says voice cold and _shit_. Harry almost runs the red light, stops only when Louis yanks at his hair. _"And I mean. Flirt. He unbuttoned his shirt, right in front of me and his friends. Called him fit and everything. Pretty sure he wanted to do him, right then and there, and this isn't the first time it's happened. I'm pretty sure he dated and maybe was doing stuff with the friend who introduced us to each other, too."_

 _"Well. I'd say that **is** problematic, love,"_ Niall says, and Harry has never been the type to want to hit or get mad at anyone, but fuck it if his blood is boiling. _"I know the type, yeah? Serial flirter, can't seem to content himself with keeping things strictly platonic between himself and things that make him hot. Claims everything is in good fun and it's nothing, even when he knows it hurts you. A classic magpie. If he wants shiny things, he'll get it."_

 _"Just because he's charming and hot and handsome, and he knows it,"_ it's like venom, the words coming out of her mouth. _"Just because he knows no one can resist the one and only Harry Styles."_

"Fucking shit, Haz," Louis says, and the car behind them is honking. A green light, probably, but Harry can't get himself to move.

 _"Well, we're getting loads of Tweets,"_ Nick Grimshaw's voice chimes in, and he reads out, _"@MrsPayne says 'It's always the good-looking ones.'"_

 _"Ain't that true,"_ she says with a frustrated sigh.

 _"@horchata says 'I'd sooner marry a real magpie,'"_ Niall says. _"Me too."_

 _"Oh, Dougie's sent me something,"_ Grimmy says. _"He said- oh. Oh no, I can't say that on air, sorry, many a foul name-"_

 _"Ariana's sent me a message too,"_ Niall says, a smirk audible through his voice. _"She's said, 'the d ain't worth it.' And it's not!"_

_"Well-"_

_"Don't go there, Kendall, that's not the point,"_ Niall cuts in, and he goes on to say in a more serious tone, _"In any case, love, was this guy ever worth fighting for? Was he worth whatever pain you must have gone through? Is this worth it? Do you think he's worth it? Because I don't know, from the sounds of it, it doesn't seem like it."_

"What the fuck does he know," Harry says, mostly to himself, and he's got a death grip on the steering wheel. "He doesn't know me, he doesn't know Kendall, he doesn't know us."

"But you can't deny, Haz, you are kind of a shit boyfriend-"

"You are in no way helping, Lou!"

"Holy shit, Harry," Eleanor says, "your phone is blowing up, you've got like sixty messages- oh god, your sister's calling-"

"Not now, El!"

 _"I know it's kind of a crazy girlfriend move, but I looked through his phone one time, Niall,"_ and Harry feels his blood run cold. _"Not through the texts or anything, but the contacts, and holy crap. Like, he doesn't know most names of his quote end quote 'friends.' Like, it went something like, 'girl - bar,' 'girl - art history class,' 'guy -  gym,' 'guy - TA,' and that last one came with a question mark! I mean, there were literal dozens of them, I couldn't believe it."_

 _"All bad signs,"_ he replies, and a _'boooooo!'_ sound effects plays. _“Bet he’s got something like, ‘girl - great for bed, not for talk’, or something to that effect.”_

_“How’d you know?!”_

_“A magpie, love. Collect as if it were fun and no big deal. Can’t seem to want more than something to satisfy their innate human nature to be absolute asses.”_

"Can you try calling her on my phone, El-"

"I've been doing that for the past ten minutes, she's not answering or replying to anything."

Harry clenches his teeth, steps on the breaks, and turns the car around, saying to the GPS, "BBC Radio 1 Broadcasting House."

"Harry," El says from behind him, but the blood's rushing to his ears, and he doesn't want to hear this, not right now. He follows the directions voiced out to him while the devil leprechaun slowly convinces Kendall that they're not worth it.

 _"Kendall, I'll ask you plainly,"_ Niall says slowly, sadly. _"Whatever Harry's intentions might be, whether it's honestly innocent or not. He has to know. Does it hurt you?"_

She's quiet for what seems like an eternity, and Harry is at the edge of his seat. Feels his heart beating right out of his chest.

 _"He forgot that it was our fourth month anniversary today,_ " is what she says quietly, and Harry feels the beating stop completely.

"Harry, what the fuck?" Louis says, and Harry knows, when that comes from Louis, he for sure has royally fucked up.

 _"Kendall, why are you wasting your time and tears on this person? You know, it's inevitable that pain will come with love, at one point or another,"_ Niall tells her. _"But I would hope to think that in the end, the person you're fighting for would make it all worth it. You'd push to survive through any obstacle, because you at the end of the day, your happiness would outweigh whatever you'd gone through. I don't think this bloke would give you that sort of happiness."_

"Who is this twat?" Harry feels like he's growling, but he's so angry. Doesn't quite feel like himself, driving like a madman, and they're not that far away from where the twat is according to the GPS lady, so it just spurs him on to drive faster.

"' _#magpielover’_ and _'#thedisntworthit’_ are trending, Harry-"

"So's _'#uforgotutwat'_ -"

He hates how in sync these two are, sometimes. Just a few more blocks-

 _"I know it sounds harsh,"_ Kendall's voice comes through, sounding soft and tired, _"but sometimes, it feels like he thinks so highly of himself, you know?"_

 _"Like he's God's gift to anyone with eyes and are easily distracted? Know the feeling, love,"_ Niall says, and Harry is never confrontational, but he would really love to give Niall Horan a very strongly worded reprimanding.

"Park the car, Lou," he barks out, and he's running out to the front of the building, and he's cursing himself for not realizing ahead that the BBC was fucking huge.

"Peel Wing, love," the receptionist tells him in a bored voice when he asks, and he follows her vague instructions, trying to make his way around, and he's just gotten to the lift when he hears it through the phone speakers of the man standing next to him.

_"-You've got to decide, Kendall. All we can do sometimes is make the right choices to protect ourselves from pain that isn't worth it."_

"Oi, mate, make it louder! This one's going to be good, can tell," someone from the back of the lift says, and the rest of the compartment laughs with him, and Harry can feel his ears go red.

_"...You're right, Niall. Harry, wherever you are. I'm done. You aren't worth it. Goodbye."_

Harry feels his stomach fall away. Just drop. Doesn't know how he keeps himself upright.

"Oh, shit!"

"Niall was right, though, he wasn't worth it-"

"Then you should know how your wife feels about you after all that, Sean!"

All the words pass through his ears, and eventually, he's the last one in the elevator. Doesn't know quite what to do with himself. Feels anger and hurt and sadness and disappointment, rolling around in his stomach and his blood.

At the floor he was supposed to get off on, just one person gets on, and if Harry were his usual self, he's be noting how cute the bloke was, but right now. It's not a nice thing, the right now.

"Legendary," the guy laughs to himself, and he's glancing at Harry. "Great day at work. Never had an on-air break-up, not yet. Was as good as I thought it would be. Gonna get a fancy breakfast wrap from the posh caf as a reward."

That Irish accent would be recognizable anywhere.

Harry narrow his eyes, glares at him, and says, "Heartbreak Hero?"

"Niall Horan, mate," he introduces himself with a blinding grin, and Harry can feels the charm and lightness radiating off of him. He _despises_ it.

"Harry," he says, in the most indifferent, most venomous voice he can muster. "Harry Styles."

"Oh! You've got the same name as-"

"I am him, you twat," he hisses, and he watches with a bit of satisfaction at Niall's eyes get a tiny bit wider.

"Wha-"

"Nice to meet you, thank you for ruining my life," Harry says. "Expect a complaint within the week. Have a nice day."

He gets off when the elevator door opens, looking back and seeing his shocked eyes and jaw agape, and it feels _good._

Realizes at the last minute that this is the wrong floor, but he's already made his exit, he's made his scene, so. Stairs, it is.

 

*

  
The station manager looks uncomfortable in his seat, peering nervously at Louis and Harry from where they're sat in front of him.

"Sir, as much as I don't like confrontation, I've got every right to want to protect my reputation," Harry says, and the manager sighs, rubbing his face in an exhausted manner, like _this_ shouldn't be happening, this wasn't expected. Well. "What Mr. Horan stated about my character is incorrect, and inappropriate, and those libelous claims have led to personal turmoil. You've got to understand that he has the responsibility to fix this, it was his doing. My lawyer here's done the research-"

"I'm not a lawyer sir, just a student," Louis glares at him, wondering how in the fuck he got dragged into this, but he says, "We don't want any trouble. Mr. Styles would just like the wrongs to be made right by the person whom he thinks is responsible for this 'personal turmoil.'"

"Mr. Styles, I understand your plight, but I think it best if we wait for Mr. Horan, Nick's show just ended and they'll be making their way here shortly-"

"Chill, Bagsy, you haven't had your coffee yet, have you?" Nick Grimshaw enters the room, all legs and hair. "Niall's coming in a bit, what's all the fuss about?"

"Mr. Styles here is rather, _distressed_ , with the situation from yesterday."

"Ohhh, it's the magpie lover!" Nick says as he looks at Harry with a mischievous smile. "Well, you are fit, I guess, but did you really forget that it was your anniversary?"

"He did," Louis answers, glaring back at Harry when he shoots him daggers.

"Okay, then your 'd' really isn't worth it."

Harry slaps the table in frustration, gives the manager a stink eye, and Bagsy tells Nick in a resigned tone, "You are in no way helping the situation, Nick."

"Look, Magpie," Nick says, ruffling Harry's hair despite his angry huffs and slaps to get his hands away, "Niall didn't do anything aside from be honest, and it's his job. It's not his fault you made it so easy for him, from the way your ex-girlfriend talked about you, you sounded like a real twat."

"So you weren't joking, with the complaint and stuff," Niall comes in then, giving he and Louis a quick glance before going to stand by Bagsy. "Well, for what it's worth, I am sorry. That she broke up with you on-air and all. But that was out of my hands. All I did was give her advice, she had the choice on whether to follow it or not."

"So you acknowledge that you had some hand in it," Louis says when Harry glares at Niall, like a puppy growling when it doesn't get what it wants. "That your words may have had an influence on her choices."

"I do," Niall says, crossing his arms as he stares back. "But at the end of the day, I can't fix this. Have you tried speaking to her prior to filing a complaint, Mr. Styles? This could be resolved if you showed more concern for Kendall."

"I have tried, there were attempts, but she won't listen, Mr. Horan," Harry hisses at him. "Despite your assumptions, Heartbreak Hero, I'm not heartless. I care about her, very much, and now you've made it out that I don't-"

"Harry," Niall addresses him, and he looks and sounds impatient. "I don't know what you want me to do. It was her decision, to break up with you. I didn't convince her of anything. All I tried to do was to save her from pain you might cause from your actions. I would do it again. I will always be at the side of those who've been fucked over by someone they'd trusted-"

"You don't know me, you had no right to speak like that of someone you've never met or heard of aside from the words chosen specifically for me by an angry girlfriend," Harry almost yells, and he's standing so he's eye level with Niall. "Of course you'd be on her side, because that's the side you hear. But I care deeply for Kendall, and you have no idea how this makes me feel. How fucked over _I_ feel."

"So you want me to hear your side of things?"

"Yes, that would be a start."

"Fine," Niall steps forward, so he and Harry are practically nose to nose. "Come back tomorrow at 8, so you can air your side of the situation on my segment."

"Nialler-"

"Alright, tomorrow," Harry cuts Nick off, nodding at Niall and giving him death glare, Louis and the station manager sighing long-sufferably.

 

*

  
"Good morning, Heroes!" Harry watches Niall say into his mic, and the twat is grinning widely, like he's having fun, "We'll be doing things a little differently today. You might remember Kendall and her magpie lover, Harry-"

Nick plays an audio clip, of Hermione Granger in the first _Potter_ film calling the Boy Who Lived, _'What. An. Idiot.'_ Harry glares at him, doesn't see Niall's wink and rueful smile at Grimmy.

"Anyway, we've got a guest today. Someone who wants people to know his side of the story, and we figured that it's only fair to give him a chance to explain himself-"

 _"You figured?"_ Harry scoffs at him, and he says into his own microphone, "To everyone who listens to this so-called 'Heartbreak Hero,' he doesn't know anything, just assumes and gives opinions on situations that have nothing to do with him."

"Hold on, there, Magpie, Niall isn't done introducing you," Nick says into his mic, laughing and sounding cheerful, but he's giving Harry the stink eye.

"I'll introduce myself, I'm Harry, and I speak on behalf of everyone who's unfairly met the edge of this man's supposed sword of justice. _Mind your own business._ "

"Bold words coming from someone who's got contacts on his phone labeled like _'girl - party',_ " Niall says, smirking smugly at him. "Why didn't you mind your own business? Why didn't you remember your anniversary, why did you strip that waiter of his shirt, right in front of her? I've never claimed to be an expert on how people act, Harry, but from the sounds of all that, it can't be denied that you were an awful boyfriend."

"That's the thing," Harry replies, and the tension in the booth was palpable. "You assumed that I'm an awful boyfriend, you assumed things about my character that had no basis except for the words of my ex-girlfriend. What if I told you of the truth? That I was content and happy with her, that I was trying to fix everything wrong in my life for her?

"I won't deny it, I've been around," Harry says, "but with that being said, there's nothing wrong with dating more than a few people in your life. You keep on dating until you find the person for you."

"There's a difference between finding the person you're meant to be with for the rest of your life," Niall tells him, giving him a look, "and just flat out being a person who can't be satisfied."

"And there you go again, making assumptions," Harry frowns at him. "Kendall was different from any other person I've dated. I tried changing, but change doesn't come overnight. I wanted her to see that I was giving an effort, but anything we might have had is gone, because you made her break up with me."

"I didn't make her do anything, Harry Styles, Magpie Lover," Niall tells him, and any joking tone he might have had earlier is completely gone now. "I just told her the truth."

" _Your_ perception of the truth," Harry corrects him, and if it weren’t so early in the morning, he’d be pretty livid. “You don’t know anything about me, Heartbreak Hero.

“I’m not saying that she shouldn’t have said those things about me, because it’s true. I may not have treated her the right way all the time, but for you to so readily accept her word and not hear out the other side? For you to blindly give her your opinion which isn’t founded? You’ve got no place to say anything about my relationship.”

“I’ve got no say?” Niall says, and his blue eyes are like ice. “My place was cemented for me by the fact that your girlfriend called in to ask for advice about you. So it’s not like I truly wanted to have her break up with you, Mr. Styles. I would have preferred it, though, I won’t deny, because I’m here to defend people like her, those who need the right push, to leave people like you, who can’t seem to content themselves and just go after what they want. A magpie.”

“How do you truly know that I wasn’t content then, Niall? How do you know?” Harry asks him. “What do you know about anyone, Niall? All these people that call in and Tweet you and message you. What do you know about them? What do you know about their situations?”

“A fat lot more than you, that’s for sure,” he replies, and Harry’s pretty sure that this is a full-on fight, now.

“Oh? So you can tell how long a couple’s been together? Or how they spend their time together? What they call each other when they’re alone?” Harry asks him, and he can’t stop. Doesn’t want to. “So you know about me and Kendall? You know our situation, our circumstances? Talked to our friends, family? Do you really know?”

Niall stays quiet, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms as he looks blankly at Harry. Looks a little bit defeated, and Harry is drunk on the little victory.

“You don’t know us, that’s the truth of it,” Harry says, “you don’t know anything. Why are you so bitter about love? You know what, I think you’re lonely, and you want to ruin other people’s lives, make them just as miserable as you. There’s no other explanation for your crap advice-”

“Magpie,” Nick warns, looking about ready to cut his mic off, but Niall stops him. Glares at Harry, as if daring him to continue, and he takes that challenge.

“You say you’re a hero, defender of the heartbroken, but truth is, you’re out to tear people’s lives apart, just to make them as bitter and miserable as you so you’re not the only one,” Harry says, and he’s got this great smirk on his face, smug and satisfied. “You don’t know what it’s like to be hurt, to be left behind-”

“I fucking know what it’s like, you piece of shit,” Niall practically yells at him, and the entire floor seems to have heard it. Goes deathly quiet, the producers are too shocked to even shake their heads at the slip of the curse words. “I know what it’s like, I know what I’m talking about, because guess what? I’ve been in her position! I’ve been in all of their positions! I’ve tried trusting someone like you, and you know where that got me? Here, talking to another piece of shit, while he’s off engaged to one of the people he cheated on me with, and she’s pregnant! Fucking fantastic, yeah?”

Harry feels his heart drop. More so for the fact that Niall got his heart broken so badly, less for the fact that he was wrong. Looks at the expression of pain on Niall’s face as he removes his headphones, kneads his forehead with his fingers, and he’s never felt quite so horrible in his life.

“Well, that was, something, _shit,_ sorry, sorry,” Nick says into his microphone, cutting through the silence, but he’s giving Harry a disappointed look. Harry knows the feeling. Wishes he could give it to himself. “Quite much for half past 8 in the morning, yeah?”

Niall gives Harry one last glance, full of hatred and hurt and anger, and he’s getting off of his seat, walks out of the studio, and it just compounds on him, all of this _wrong, wrong, wrong, shit, I couldn’t have done this in any worse possible way._

“Here’s a bit of a music run for you all, a little something from Saint Motel, Heartbreak Hero will be right back,” Nick says, but the producers shake their heads, one of them mouthing, _‘he’s gone off,’_ and he backtracks quickly. “Or not! Sorry folks, he’s taken an early breakfast, didn’t even wait for me, how considerate. In any case, been an eventful morning! Keep it on the Breakfast Show, on BBC Radio 1.”

He plays the track, and shuts down all the mics in the studio, and removes his headphones.

“Um, no offense, Magpie,” he says, looking at Harry, who still hasn’t moved, “But that was uncalled for. You’re not welcome here, it’s not fun anymore. Please leave.”

Harry nods, swallowing any words he might have had (which he were sure there were none of), and takes his leave. Feels the hollowing feeling of disappointment and lets himself berate himself.

_Twat._

*

Niall finds himself in a Sophiam sandwich on Liam’s bed once he gets home.

“What a twat-”

“Who does he think he is-”

“I would’ve taken him out to the yard, Ni, you are a classier lady than I am-”

“Great, now all the ‘oppressed’ will start feeling dignified and start fighting back, _great_ -”

“I hope he’s alone for the rest of his life-”

“I hope his mother talks to him-”

“Don’t, we’re just as bad as he is if you start talking like that,” Niall says, cutting their rampage short, and they cuddle him even more. Sophia nuzzles into his neck, Payno rubs his rough fuzz against his cheek. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can we sleep?”

“Course, Niall.”

“I’m still kind of jet-lagged anyway, come on, spoon me-”

“Payno, Soph’s right here-”

“It’s okay, Niall, we’re in a three-way relationship anyway,” Sophia hugs him tighter.

“Baby, _noooooo_.”

*

“My man,” Matty slinks up to him when Harry walks into the lecture hall that afternoon. “That was fucking amazing, that was. Imagine, Haz, you were the spokesperson for all men who were unjustly treated by that Hero whatever.”

Gemma stands, and pinches Matt’s ear, saying, “ _Niall_ was the one unjustly treated, Matt, don’t be fucking stupid.”

“But he wasn’t wrong,” he says, rubbing at his ear from where his girlfriend twisted it.

“Look, we’re not going to disagree and say that Niall was faultless in all this,” Eleanor says, breaking up what could have become an argument, and she stares up at Harry with a serious look on her face. “You had a point in there somewhere. Harry, but you went way too far. You’d already proven your point, there wasn’t any reason to attack a person on his personal life, that you knew nothing about.”

“Well, he assumed that I was something of a playboy, he didn’t have any reason to do that,” Harry tries to defend himself, but he knows it’s weak. He knows he’s in the wrong.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Haz,” Louis says, and it catches him off-guard. Lou might treat him like shit a lot of the time, but he’s a loyal friend, if anything. He wasn’t expecting this. “Didn’t you yourself say that he should have minded his own business, since he didn’t know the entire situation? That applies to you, too.”

“But Louis-”

“I’ll be frank with you Haz,” he’s cut him off, and Louis, in all the years Harry has known him, has never looked this serious. “You claimed to have been changing, but I’m sorry, I just didn’t see it. I know I could have been more of a support on this front, but. He was right. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way. He just let her see things the way they honestly were.”

“I-”

“I would have told her the same thing, if I weren’t your friend,” Louis tells him in all seriousness, and Harry knows how fucked he’s made the situation, if Louis can speak like that to him unironically.

“Apologize, Harry,” El tells him with finality, as if he wasn’t going to do that already. “You make this right.”

*

“What do you mean, he’s not in?”

“Exactly that,” the receptionist is bored as hell with him, and she tells him again, “Come in another time. He should be reporting for work tomorrow."

“But Heartbreak Hero-”

“Segment didn’t push through today, did you not listen?” she asks him with a sour look on her face, and Harry is honestly feeling as annoyed as she looks. “Come in another time. Please leave if you have no other business to do here.”

“But-”

“Did I not tell you you aren’t welcome here anymore, Magpie?” Nick Grimshaw suddenly voices out, and Harry looks away from her to see him walking out of the corridor, out into the receiving area. “What are you doing here? Not come to torment Niall again, have you? Because he’s literally worked his ass off, getting over this bloke, he doesn’t need another idiot who doesn’t deserve his time to ruin his life.”

“I came here to apologize,” Harry says, holding his ground.

“You? Apologize?” he replies with a raised eyebrow, not quite believing.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“We have a term for people like you. Magpie, and we can’t say it on-air.” Nick tells him. “Since we can’t say ‘fuckboy,' we call you ‘Magpie’ instead. A poor substitution, but we do what we can. I don’t expect anything from fuckboys. You lot are the worst kind of human.”

“I really am just trying to apologize,” Harry says meekly, drawing back a little. “I know I was in the wrong. I know I’m a piece of shit. But. I really, really am trying. It’s just. Hard.”

He deflates, not knowing what else to say. Feels like his honesty will sound false to someone who won’t really listen, so he doesn’t try.

Nick looks at him carefully, asks, “Is that Nando’s?”

Harry glances at him, a little surprised at the question, and he instinctively clutches the bag a little tighter. But he replies slowly, anyway, “Yes, I did a little research, looked through his Twitter. Seems to mention it a lot, so.”

“It’s his favorite,” he confirms, nodding.

It’s silent, between them, for another whole minute at least, and Harry starts to feel uncomfortable. Starts thinking about the least painful, least embarrassing way of bowing out of this conversation and leaving with at least a bit of dignity left in him, when-

“Hand over your phone,” Nick holds out his hand, and Harry, dumbfounded, does as he’s told. He begins typing out immediately, saying, “This is his number, but I don’t think you should call him until he lets you. I’m putting in his address too. If this goes south, you are not to mention my hand in this, you hear?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, shocked at the turn of events.

“Don’t fuck with him, I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, just this once, Magpie-”

“Could you not call me that?”

“It’s either ‘twat’ or ‘Magpie’-”

“Fine,” Harry sighs, resigned, “Magpie will do.”

“Of course it will, you idiot,” Nick says. “Do not shag him either, you hear?”

“Wha- Of course I won’t, why would I?”

“Oh, you will want to, have you seen him?” Nick says, slapping the back of his head as he walks out, tossing his phone behind him, and Harry almost drops the food as he goes to catch it. “Don’t be a fucking magpie, Magpie!”

*

Niall’s place is posh. Like, legitimately posh.

“Christ,” Harry mutters, parking across the street, hand grasping the bag of food tightly as he makes his way to the house. It’s like a fucking mansion, clean and tall and glass everywhere and it’s. Surprising, somewhat. Didn’t think a radio disk jockey would require the need to have a security code to enter and shit. It’s kind of mad.

“Shit,” he mumbles, eyeing the buttons, not knowing what to do. He looks around for a doorbell, but everything looks the fucking same, he-

“Um, hello?”

Harry turns around at the voice, and stops dead in his tracks. Feels his jaw drop open, his inner fanboy breaking out.

“Liam Payne,” he mumbles, not quite believing. “Oh _fuck_ , I’m- shit, now the house makes a lot more sense-”

“What?” Liam says with a confused look on his face, and he surveys Harry, up and down, mouth in a grim line. “What are you doing here, mate? How’d you get my address?”

“Nick Grimshaw gave it to me, but it wasn’t- I’m at the wrong place, I’m sorry to bother-”

“Payno!” someone calls out from behind them. “Don’t talk to that git-”

“What?” Harry looks round, and Niall Horan comes approaching them, an angry expression on his face.

“What are you doing at my home?” Niall spits at him, and Liam must sense a fight brewing because he steps between them, looking at Niall curiously.

“You live here?” Harry asks, surprised as he looks at Niall’s blazing eyes, his red lips set in a frown, and in the back of his mind, he can’t help but acknowledge how handsome, how fit he is. Remembers Nick’s words, and it makes a bit more sense now, the feeling he gets in his gut.

“Why? Surprised a miserable sod like me can live in a nice house?” Niall bites out, and Liam holds his hand out as Niall steps forward threateningly. “What are you even doing here?”

“Why are you here? How do you know Liam Payne?” Harry asks him, genuinely not knowing what was going on.

“He’s been my best mate since uni, you twat, get away from us-”

“Niall, who is this?” Liam asks, glancing at Niall.

“This is Harry Styles, Payno,” Niall introduces him, and Liam looked confused, until he goes on to say, “Magpie.”

Liam’s eyes widen, and he looks back at Harry, resembling an angry puppy with his furrowed eyebrows and a frown. “You’re the one who made Nialler here cry in bed-”

“Payno, shut your mouth, fucking shit,” Niall glares at him, and he glances back at Harry, angrier than ever. “Why are you disturbing me here? Are you so cruel to hurt in my persona safe space? Why are you going this far to torment me?”

“I came here to apologize!” Harry says, holding up the bag as a sort of shield. “I’m sorry for the way I acted towards you, I had no excuse.”

“Fuck no, you didn’t,” Niall hisses at him, and he’s pulling Liam by the arm, shoves Harry off and enters the security code to unlock the gate.

“Wait, Niall, I got you a peace offering-”

“It will take more than peri-peri chicken to get me to talk to you, you twat,” he tells him, but Liam’s looking back at Harry curiously.

“Obviously, I know that,” Harry pouts, “but you’re the one who told me, if I wanted someone to talk to me, I make the effort, right?”

“Oh, so you’re the one who told him, Niall,” Liam says.

“Liam, you’re supposed to be on my side here,” Niall hisses at him, pulling more on his arm.

“I promise you now, Niall, I’m not here to make you feel worse,” Harry says earnestly. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to take it that far. I’m sorry I didn’t treat you well. I really am.”

“Ni, I think you should talk to him-”

“Payno, fuck no-”

“Payno, fuck yeah-”

“You don’t get to call him ‘Payno’, you git-”

“Oh my god, you two argue like a fucking married couple,” Liam says, shaking his head and glaring at them both. “Niall, just talk to him, he’s trying to apologize-”

“You believe him?!”

“I don’t know, but he’s got food and I’m starving,” Liam replies, looking so serious. He glances at Harry, even more seriously, “If you make him cry-”

“I won’t, I promise,” Harry swears, and it takes Liam a moment. but the reply satisfies him, all the same because he nods towards the house, ignoring Niall’s sounds of protest, and welcomes him in. And the inside is just as posh, but comfortably so, and Harry falls a little bit in love with it.

“No bloodbaths now, boys,” he says with a bit of a grin, and he waves, makes his way to the staircase armed with Harry’s take-away, and Harry finds himself alone with Niall in the kitchen.

“Um, would you like something to drink?” Niall asks him, quietly, not looking at him, as if to minimize any sort of contact between the two of them.

“No, no thank you,” Harry replies, taking the seat Niall offers on the kitchen island, watches him settle across him. “I. I know it might not seem like much, coming from me. But I really am sorry, Niall. I’m sorry for taking it as far as I did.”

“I understand that you wanted me to hurt, I got that, Harry,” Niall says, looking exhausted, all of a sudden. “I know what I did caused you pain, and I’m sorry for that as well. But. That was personal. You’ve got no idea how much it took me just to move on.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says softly, and he feels awful. Almost as much as when Niall had first broke down and yelled at him a few days ago. “I. I don’t know what happened to you, but. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not. I don’t know, it was awful, but without that happening to me, I wouldn’t be who I am now,” Niall tells him with a bit of a shrug. “Now I know better. Love, romance and shit. It’s not meant for everyone. The unluckier ones just get fucked over in the end. Learned it the hard way.”

Harry doesn’t quite know what to say as he watches him speak as if that were the truth. Speaking as if love weren’t meant for him, really. “I’m sorry. It must have been awful, if it caused you to feel this way.”

“Why’re you apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Niall says, shaking his head a bit, but a small smile on his face.

“Still,” Harry says, returning the smile. “I doubt he’s apologized to you, the way you deserve, if what the way you talk about him insinuates anything. Whoever did that to you, he’s ruing the day now. You getting rich off of your heartbreak. Look at you, helping out all those who don’t know what to do with their lives.”

“Including your girlfriend,” Niall snorts. “Look where that’s got you.”

“The company’s not all that bad, after a while,’ Harry shrugs, and Niall laughs at him, loud. “I think you’re brave, you know. A lot more than you realize.”

“Stuff it, Harry, we’re good,” Niall tells him, and it sounds genuine enough, so he breathes a sigh of relief. Feels loads better, and he doesn’t know why things can’t be this...Simple. This uncomplicated, with the people who really matter. “How’re you and Kendall? Any progress?”

“Unclear,” he replies, smiling sadly. “I can’t seem to get my foot through the door. She’s. Headstrong, to say the least. I don’t know, I’ve lost my shot with her, it was my fault for being such a bad boyfriend.”

“Did you love her?” Niall asks him.

“I don’t know, I haven’t known her long enough to really figure out my feelings,” Harry answers honestly. “But being with her never felt wrong. I honestly thought it was the best decision I’ve made, to take a chance on Cara’s set-up and see where it went.”

Niall glances at him, face blank, and Harry doesn’t have the energy to decipher what it could mean, and he wants to leave and maybe try to sleep all of this off, and-

“Wait. She won’t talk to me.”

“Yeah, think you’ve made that perfectly clear Harry.” Niall says with a confused smile. “You trying to guilt trip me even more?”

“It’s not your fault, Niall, I’m just stating a fact, she won’t talk to me,” Harry says, feeling very smug all of a sudden. “But I do know someone she _will_ speak to.”

*

Niall can’t quite believe he’s agreed to this.

“Bleeding brilliant, this is,” he mutters to himself as he waits out in the hallway, across the door to Lecture Hall C. “Unbelievable. Just because you think he’s fucking pretty, Niall, unbelievable, Grimshaw would have a field day if he knew-”

He knows some of the other students passing by are staring at him, whether it’s because he’s talking to himself or because he’s mildly quite well-known or whatever, he doesn’t really care all that much.

The class is dismissed then, the students filtering out of the room, and he immediately spots her. She’s beautiful, quite more so than the picture Harry had made him engrain to his memory, and he can fully believe that this girl would be paid to be beautiful on camera.

He follows her as she walks down the hall, follows until he’s standing next to her, and he sees that she’s engrossed with her phone, and he clears his throat, says, “Sorry, you must be Kendall, am I right?”

She looks at him, confused and probably not in the mood (he knows the feeling very well, especially at the moment), and she says, trying to be polite, “I am. And you are?”

“I’m Niall,” he replies, smiling. “I’m your Heartbreak Hero. Nice to meet you.”

Kendall’s eyes widen and she stops in her tracks, staring at him. “Niall Horan? As in-”

“Yeah, the one who kind of made you break up with your boyfriend,” he says with a bit of a meek grin. “Are you free? Would it be alright if we had a cup of coffee, I know a great place. We could talk so much shit about your ex, it’ll be amazing.”

*

“You’re joking,” Harry says as he stares at the stack of paper handed to him, titled at the top: ‘Shit Harry Did That Kendall Really Hated.’ “Niall, this must be like five pages- no fucking way, it’s _single-spaced._ ”

“You asked for this, you twat,” Niall barks at him, sipping the tea Harry had made for him. His flat is cozy, clean and bright and warm, and for a fuckboy, Harry lives pretty simply. Can see the occasional pretentious, artsy, strange decorations (he’s pretty sure the wall coat hooks on the bathroom are sculpted vaginas), but otherwise, it’s very. Homey.

“I didn’t ask for a five-page list of things to fix!” Harry says.

“Well, I sure as hell wasn’t going to talk her into getting back together with you,” he snorts, taking another sip. “You’ve got to work for it if you want it! Make the change you want her to see really visible and real.”

“ _Fuck,_ we were only together for four months,” Harry mutters, leafing through the pages. “How did I do so much shit to piss her off?”

“Most of that are specific things, like, event-wise, things you did on dates and shit, she was really fucking specific, so there’s not much we can do to fix that,” Niall says, giving him a look. “But she did mention some character traits that are proven to be undesirable, and I generalized some of the things you did wrong into recurring little habits that should be remedied, so we can start from there. We spent _hours_ in there, Harry, I must have paid for like, six drinks, wasn’t imagining that I’d have to lose money on your quest to get your girlfriend back-”

“Did she really get mad when I told Tom Hanks I loved it when he ran in that one movie?” Harry reads out #56 incredulously, really not believing. “I saw him and couldn’t not say anything, and I was drunk!”

“That one was particularly pathetic,” Niall stares at him. “You happen upon one of the best people on earth, and what you tell him is _you liked it when he ran_. Pathetic. Sad, really.”

“How the fuck does she remember all this?” he’s a bit hysterical, reading through the next page and eyes widening at the things listed there. “She hated my wall hooks because they looked like- oh, but they’re flowers! They’re flowers!”

“What were you on, really, when you bought those?” Niall asks him incredulously.

*

“This is you, now,” Niall gives him his phone, and on the screen is an incredibly incriminating picture of Harry, one he was sure he made Louis delete.

“Where did you get this?” he’s asking with a frown on his face, and both Liam and Sophia (who is lovely, queen of everything, she and Eleanor would get on, rule the world together) peek at the picture on either side of him, and they both laugh out loud.

“Nice bum, mate,” Liam smirks, trying to muffle the rest of his laughter when Harry gives him a reproachful look.

“Oh, that’s not a single photo, that’s an entire album, Louis has years worth of material on you, made him send them to me.”

“Why’d you name the album _‘harry the magpie twat fuckboy’_?” Harry’s pretty sure he screeches, but it just makes Niall shrug in front of him, and Liam and Sophia laugh even more.

“That’s your supervillain name, copyright pending,” Niall says with a dismissive wave, “ _anyway_. A bit of a chav, basically. Better dressed, better mannered, posher accent, but basically.”

“That’s not a chav, then, Niall.”

“For lack of a better term, Soph, I’m trying to minimize the use of ‘fuckboy’ so he doesn’t get desensitized to it,” he explains. “In any case. You were a shit listener, a shit monogamous lover, a shit promise-keeper, a shit boyfriend and shit person, in general. Didn’t take anything seriously and didn’t have any real direction in life, other than flirt with fit men and women ranging from the ages of 18 to 60.

“This is what we’re trying to help you become,” he continues, going to another photo album, and it’s full of badly photoshopped pictures of doctors, vets, firefighters, grooms, and the like with Harry’s face on them. “Focused, determined. Loyal, true, genuine. Loving.”

“Better, then?” Harry asks, looking up quickly from the phone screen, valiantly trying to ignore Liam squawking about how one picture was absolutely, for sure, him with Harry’s head placed over his.

“Not necessarily better, Harry. Just perfect for Kendall,” Niall smiles at him warmly, and Harry feels it down to his toes.

*

"Here, Soph, let me get that for you," Niall watches Harry take hold of the many shopping bags, full of 'sensible', decent, _normal_ clothing. Clothes that Kendall specifically stated that Harry would wear note often.

"Well, at least I know you've got manners," Niall remarks as Sophia looks at Harry gratefully. "Lesson number one on how to not be a fuckboy: you've got to be mindful of your girl, be observant. Ask her for what she needs and be a gentleman."

"You know, I'm not horrible to women," Harry says with a reproachful look at him, and both Niall and Sophia give him a dead stare. "I mean it. I mean, I like appreciating their beauty, too much of it, maybe, but I don't objectify. I don't look at them like conquests, or things to collect, Niall. I have a lot of respect for them. Plenty. Loads."

"Okay, loads of respect," Niall says, "Plenty. Enough to go around. Very democratic, I guess, then, in spreading that love and respect. Enough to go around for everyone-"

"Shut it," Harry pouts at him, and Sophia's giggling somewhere in the background.

"Brings me to lesson number two, thanks for the segue," Niall continues, "Your dick, your mind, your eyes, your heart, your entire being, is meant for one person. And one person at a time. If you decide to go all in, you've got to mean it. You can't go just looking at other people and pass it off as nothing. I've seen you eye-fucking with at least six girls in the time that we've stood here."

"One of which included me," Sophia cocks an eyebrow at him, and he sputters.

"Appreciating your beauty! I swear!"

"Kendall might not know that," Niall tells him with a frown. "Okay, say that it really does mean nothing, those little flirtatious things that you do. I understand that it's in your nature, that you're just so fucking charming you can't help it. But she might not know that. She might not know that when you talk to other people, it's really nothing. So you make it known to her that she's the only one for you. Assure her that you're hers, make more of an effort.

"But really, the thing about 'appreciating beauty.' It's shit, it really is," Niall tells him straightforwardly, and Harry glares at him. "It's a weak argument. If you've got her, then everyone else shouldn't matter. She's the best, most beautiful person in the world, so you shouldn't go off and stare at other people, you twat."

"But-"

"No! If you find someone beautiful and in the back of your head, you vaguely want to fuck 'em, look away!"

*

Harry’s pretty sure he learns more in the next week than he has this entire term in uni.

With the way Niall’s starting to warm up to him more, though, it isn’t so bad.

*

“Lesson number eight,” Niall says, and Harry follows him around like a little duckling, looking around in awe at the sprawling, isolated ruins. "Be romantic. Make the effort to be romantic. Don't bring her to some party or bar and be satisfied enough to call it a date. Show her you can be sensitive and have good taste."

"What is this place?" Harry asks him, still taking it all in. It's gorgeous, what remains of a brick house, vines everywhere and flowers blooming in the overgrown garden, and it has a charm about it, that charm you can only find in old places with beautiful history. Loves the ornate, elaborate staircase inside, with curved steps, and the dome of glass overlooking everything. Beautiful.

"The kind of place you should be bringing her to," Niall replies. "It's not used much, for prenuptial pics and some editorial shoots, but if the lady who owns this likes you, she'll let you rent it for a romantic dinner, free of charge."

"How do you know about it?"

"I've been here a few times," Niall answers shortly. Indifferently, which makes Harry think.

"Ooohhhh, so what have you done here, ehhh?" Harry teases, poking at his side. “What was it that made you love it, yeah?”

“I just think it’s charming, don’t be a twat,” Niall tells him, but it’s not as confident as he usually sounds. A little put down.

“Oh, come on, I know that tone, _something_ happened here,” Harry prods, making to pinch his cheek, but Niall swipes his hand away.

“Yeah. yeah, alright,” Niall says, voice lacking any sort of tone, “usually had my anniversaries here, we were going five years strong when everything blew up.”

“ _Oh_ , Niall. I’m-”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, it’s not a big deal.” Niall waves him off, and he goes off in the direction of the car, and Harry really has to work on his tact,  and lesson number four: If it looks like it hurts, don’t prod it and poke it, it’ll just make it worse, and instead, comfort and listen and wait.

*

“Hey, Ni, about earlier-”

“Yeah, let’s just leave it, Harry, not in the mood,” Niall says tiredly, strapping on his seatbelt.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. Can we go, I’m getting war flashbacks just being here.”

“That’s not fair, you know,” Harry says, “That you seem to like this place, like it enough to show it to me, but you still get hurt by memories you might have had here. It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, lesson number nine,” Niall shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “Shit will always happen. So you’ve got to find ways to make it better when things go south.”

“Will this count, then?” Harry then holds out a wreath of flowers and vines, and it’s not his best work but he had like five minutes to do it.

Niall stares at it, then at him, then back at it, before saying slowly, “You made me a flower crown. As an apology.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, clearly, “I shouldn’t have pushed you when I knew it was a sensitive topic. I’m sorry.”

Niall’s silent for a minute or so, and then he reaches out, pulls out a primrose from the circle, and says softly, “You’re learning. I’m impressed.”

“Have a good teacher,” Harry says quietly with a smile.

“Thank you,” Niall says, holding the flower to his chest, and Harry doesn’t mention the slight pink in his cheeks.

“You don’t want the whole thing?”

“I’m not wearing a bleeding flower crown, christ.”

“But, I made it special _for you_ -”

“You want to make me feel better? You wear it yourself,” Niall scoffs, and he sounds like himself again, which comforts Harry a great deal.

“Okay! Was planning to anyway,” Harry beams at him, laying it gingerly on top of his head, and he files away the little smile Niall gives him away in his mind for when he wants to cheer himself up.

*

"Lesson number fifteen," Niall thinks he'll actually die, from the number of disinterested glares he gives Harry, "Listening is important."

"Why? Have I not latched on to every word you've told me?" Harry pouts at him, resting his chin on his hands and everything.

"Yeah? Did I not tell you I ordered the chicken?" he says, gesturing pointedly to the plate of reheated shrimp in the plate in front of him.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry. But the shrimp is good too-"

"It triggers my asthma," Niall says blankly.

"Fine," Harry mutters, giving his salmon a reluctant glance, and he pushes his plate in front of Niall. "We'll trade."

"Thank you," Niall says, a little surprised at how quick he's getting it. "So you've passed on to lesson number sixteen: do shit you don't want to do if she really needs you to."

"That was special, poached in olive oil and everything," Harry looks sadly at his fish, pouting at him.

"Yeah, we can share, go on," Niall says, offering the first forkful to Harry, who accepts it with a beam and a quick kiss on his cheek.

Niall's too shocked to even remember to remind him of lesson number eleven: it isn't appropriate to thank anyone other than your girl with a kiss.

“Do you want to meet Eleanor?” Harry asks him with a smile, taking his own fork and lifting up a morsel of the salmon to Niall. “Maybe you’ll meet my other friends, eventually, but I think you’d like her best. And Louis too? I think you’d get on well, the both of you. Meet properly outside of that complaint meeting?”

“You want me to meet your friends?” Niall says, not really expecting the offer. Takes the piece of fish gratefully, and it _is_ good. Really fancy and prissy and posh, but good.

“Yeah! They’d love you, yeah? You all think I’m an annoying twat, it would be great,” Harry grins at him widely, and it’s a wonder how Niall was apprehensive in the first place.

*

“I like him,” El says as she and Lou clear the table. Niall’s just left, and to Harry’s surprise, they didn’t even talk all that much about him, specifically. It was a great night, a lot of laughter and wine and beer and it was fun. Great idea, having Niall come and meet Louis and El properly.

It was evident, why Niall was so popular as a DJ. He knew how to talk, make people interested and really listen to him. Made even the most pointless story about his knee seem so entertaining, but it was a shame that he was on radio, because he didn’t have a face for it. He was such a light when he talked, so happy and bright when he laughs.

“I do too, sorry mate, found a new best friend,” Louis says in all severity as he dries the dishes. “He takes half the time you take to say a single sentence, and what he says actually makes sense.”

“Stuff it, Lou, I’m still smarting about the pictures you sent him,” Harry replies as he throws the scraps.

“I like him, Harry,” Eleanor repeats herself, looking at Harry. “He’s. Different.”

“Yeah, and don’t he know it too,” he snorts.

“I mean it,” she says with a quirk of her lips. “He straightens you out, you know? You’re pretty tolerable when you’re with him.”

“Ayyyy,” Louis agrees, waving around a wooden spoon he’s just rinsed off. “And I saw the way you looked at him, yeah?”

“Shut it, he’s pretty, so what?” Harry says, and he stalks off to the living room to turn on the tele, pretends to not hear El add as an afterthought, “Do you think he noticed Niall looking at him the same way too?”

*

“Niall, this is a bit more than what your job description requires, you realize?” Nick says, and Niall watches him twirl his cheese around his fork. Looks delicious. “I mean, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know I don’t have to,” Niall says, leaning back in his chair. Watches the clouds and the birds fly by, and it’s pretty quiet for a Friday in London, just before lunch. It was sunny enough for Nick to want to eat alfresco, so. Brunch outside in the bleeding fucking street it was.

“So why’re you doing it?”

Niall takes a moment. before he eventually answers in a careful voice, “I don’t really know. I’m not sure why, Grimmy.”

“Ni. this- I know I don’t really have any real right to mind in on your business, but this looks pretty-”

“Stupid?”

“More than that though, it’s dangerous for you,” Nick tells him, and he looks so concerned, genuine. “What happened to you, it was awful. Even more so because he gets to be out there, just as he’s always been, really free and unaffected by everything because he is who he is, you know? But. I hope you’re not projecting him into Magpie. ‘Fixing’ him the way you might have wanted to fix- you know. Your boy. That’s not fair to everyone.”

“I never wanted to fix him, Nick,” Niall tells him sincerely. It doesn’t hurt as much, not anymore. “All I wanted from him was for him to be honest. To be faithful. Didn’t want him to change who he was. But he couldn’t even do that. Had to find out because she was too daft to throw her pregnancy test somewhere other than the trash in the bathroom he and I shared.”

“What makes Harry so different, then?”

Niall pauses, then, “He’s a flirt who can’t quit, a fucking twat and he’ll probably have a bit of his fuckboy habits forever. But he's really trying, and doesn’t lie, and that’s much more than I can say for many people you and I both know.”

*

“Gemma, this was a bad idea, I need to leave-”

“Aww, come on, Hazza,” she giggles, and she’s hanging off of his shoulders, and seeing how off her face she, and everyone in this party, are, he feels that much more sober. “We’ve hardly seen you since you’ve met that Niall bloke. I mean, _yeah_ ,  I get it, he’s fit, I would totally shag him too-’

“Wait, no, we’re not-”

“What Gems is trying to say, Haz,” Matt pushes a drink into his hand, puts his arm around his girlfriend, pulling her away from him and into the crowd, “Is that you’ve spent so much time with your blonde angel, we haven’t seen you in ages.”

“But-”

“They’re drunk, Harry,” El says, pulling him back to their booth, and Louis rises to cause havoc on the floor with them, a little far gone too. “Don’t take anything to heart, they just miss you.”

“They see me everyday.” Harry says, confused.

“Not the way they used to, you know what I mean,” she says, not unkindly, and they settle into the leather seats, watching the rest of their group flounder about. “It has been some time, you know. Like more than a month, since you’ve been out with us outside of school. I mean, Lou and I, we still see you because we have dinners, but the group dynamic’s changed a bit, because you’re not always there. And I get why you’re not there,” she says when she sees Harry try to butt in, “I know, and it’s good. I’ve got no problem with it. You’ve changed, Harry. And also, you haven’t, you understand?”

“No,” Harry says slowly, taking the drink offered to him by a passing waiter with a smile. “That makes no sense.”

“You’re still who you are,” she says, “you’re still you. But, you’ve become more considerate, kinder, more. I don’t know, you’re just different. It’s good, though.”

Harry sort of flushes under her kind gaze, and he didn’t even realize. Takes a few sips of his drink just to do something.

“Excuse me,” another waiter approaches them, holding out a tray with a single martini glass on it to him. “The lovely lady over by the bar would like to give you this.”

“Oh, well, thank you” Harry takes the drink proffered, glances over to the girl and she’s gorgeous. Blonde, wearing a tight black shirt and skirt and a nice smile. He raises the glass to her in thanks, and she’s. Walking over, which was not what he intended.

“Hi,” she says once she reaches him, settles on his lap despite his sputtering. “Come dance with me?”

“I,” he looks over to Eleanor for support, but she’s gone, sees that she’s been pulled to the dancefloor too by Lou and he’s slow dancing with her to Walk The Moon. He looks up, and gulps when he sees her drawing her head down, moving slightly so her lips would end up on his cheek instead.

She doesn’t look the least bit put out, and she giggles, standing up and dragging him to the center of it all, and Harry hopes Niall, strangely enough, of all people, doesn’t find out about any of this. Feels the shame and disappointment creeping up to him and crawling over his skin, making him feel filthy as he takes drink after drink.

Tries to ignore the looks Eleanor and Louis give him, every other minute.

*

The hoping was for naught.

Niall wakes him up by hitting him with a pillow, and it’s pretty brutal, _how did he even get in._

“You’re fucking failing at this, you twat,” Niall frowns at Harry, and Harry’s sure he’s not even speaking that much louder than he usually does, but he has a god awful headache and he’s more than hungover, and it really isn’t the time to be so fucking high and mighty, he’s _tired_.

“Could you not be so loud, Ni-”

 _“Oh, sorry Haz,”_ he says slowly, loudly, practically screams it right in his face, and Harry flinches at the volume. “Sorry, did you have a good time last night, you absolute fucking twat.”

Harry frowns at him reproachfully, then Niall’s shoving his phone at his face, and on the screen is an Instagram post. One of those lovely girls from last night, she was nice. What was her name? Natalie? Nadine?

“She was nice,” Harry voices out, shrugging.

“Thought you were trying to win back Kendall you eejit,” Niall flicks his ear. “What the fuck is this? You were doing so well too-”

“It was nothing!” Harry says, pouting, “she was a nice person. Just wanted to have some fun and she just wanted a picture with me, it wasn’t anything big, it’s nothing-”

“It’s on her Instagram for fucking everyone to see, Harry,” Niall hisses at him, and it’s kind of surprising, how he’s reacting. Harry messes up, loads of times, but Niall’s never been this mad at him for slipping up. “And really? Is this nothing? You’ve got your hand right below her breast, you fucking git. Practically under her shirt. Is that nothing?”

“Alright!” Harry says, having quite enough of the noise. “Alright, I’m sorry. But I promise you, we didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, right-”

“I didn’t!” Harry says, and he’s telling himself to calm down. “Louis and El were with me, I didn’t do anything! What is your problem?”

Niall stares at him, chest heaving, and he drops. Swallows, and looks resigned and apologetic as he says, “I. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But pictures like that. They don’t usually mean nothing.”

“I promise,” Harry assures him, stands up and goes over to him until he’s directly in front of Niall. “This was nothing. She bought me a drink, and I thought it was just that, but we ended up dancing and we took a picture but I kept drinking and drinking. But I swear, we didn’t do anything. I promise.”

Niall looks at him, studies him, and Harry knows he believes him when Niall runs his hand through his own hair tiredly, mumbling, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. Sorry.”

“I _am_ taking what you say seriously, Niall,” Harry tells him, fumbles a bit when his head aches, and Niall helps him sit back down on the bed. “Sorry- I am. I’m doing my best. Please don’t act like you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Would be nice if you could believe that I can do this-”

“Of course I do, Harry.” Niall sighs, taking a seat next to him. “But. You’ve got to be careful. What you do, it can be misconstrued.”

It takes him another full minute before he speaks again, and when he does, his voice is quiet. “He said it was nothing too, you know. Almost the exact same pose, too.”

“Niall,” Harry breathes out, but he’s cut off when he continues, “I eventually found out that the girl he was pictured with didn’t do anything, too. But he did admit to fucking the girl’s boyfriend, so. We both got fucked over, felt kind of bad for her too. It was quite a month, you could imagine.”

“You confronted him about it?”

“I did, yeah, that was our first break-up.”

“First-”

“I took him back after a week, said he would change,” Niall explains, looking sad and. “He never did, but. I took him back, each time. But then he got someone pregnant. I couldn’t do it anymore, after that.”

“She’s got the wrong end of the stick,” Harry says, but Niall shakes his head, smiling, and how.

“No, he was a great guy, but he could never love me the way I deserved,” he says with a bit of a dismissive shrug. “This girl, though. I know he loves her. I hope he doesn’t treat her the way he treated me.”

Harry stares at him, appalled and confused. “Why are you like that? Why’d you forgive him?”

Niall looks at him, and says simply, “I never said I forgave him. But. I’ve seen them together. I understand why- I don’t know. He found something in her that I couldn’t give him.”

“And what was that?”

“Real happiness. Real contentment,” he replies sadly. “He saw a future with her that he didn’t see with me. It took me a long time to understand that it’s not that he didn’t love me. It’s just that it’s different, when you meet someone who you know would fill all the gaps in your life and make you want to see the next day with them. It’s different.”

“But, he cheated on you, he lied to you,” Harry says, not comprehending. “I would hate him.”

“Who says I don’t?” Niall says. “I don’t know if I’ll ever really fully forgive him. Maybe over time, but it was unbearable, you know. It’s different, when you’re with a fuckboy. You don’t realize they’re one until it’s a little too late, because you love them and you ‘ll deny it until you can’t anymore.

“He was one. Plenty of people have told me to leave while I still could, before it got deep, but. I don’t know, it’s stupid, but I loved him. I thought I was enough of a reason to change, but it’s not like that. It doesn’t work like that. Either you find the good ones, or if they love you, really, they’ll just. Stop. And be with you, I guess. Not really proven, but from what I’ve seen, that seems to be the case.”

“Has he, um, how long were they-”

“They’ve known each other for quite awhile. Only began seeing each other last year, though,” Niall tells him. “I could see the change in him, you know. He was so. Happy, and lively, and so different, and I guess I was happy for him too. But it hurt, because I’d tried for so long, and for nothing. Knowing in the end, you just weren’t meant for the love you wanted. But that’s why I do Heartbreak Hero. Because nobody should have to go at it alone. Because nobody should have to waste their time trying to make something that never really should have worked in the first place try to last, and in the end, get hurt anyway despite all their efforts. Some types of love just don’t work. Some of us maybe just aren't meant for it. The sooner we realize that, the better.”

“Why’re you helping me?” Harry blurts out, because he’s been wondering for quite some time, now. Honestly questions why Niall would spend time with him, why he’s making the effort with him.

Knows he’s getting attached, and he’s slowly forgetting why he was doing all of this in the first place. Forgetting the girl he’s putting all this effort in for, instead seeing the man who wants to help him be better, but not at the cost of sacrificing who he is, and it’s so confusing.

He answers, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Because I had a feeling you wouldn’t be a waste of time, and that you were one of the rarities. You’d make the effort. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

*

It takes maybe about a week before Niall acts normally around him again.

"Harry, what the fuck are you doing?" he mutters, watching Harry walk with one hand shielding his eyes as he looks down, avoiding Niall’s gaze, or Niall altogether, and it’s incredibly off-putting. “What are you doing?”

“You told me, didn’t you,” he says, still not looking. “Lesson number two: Don’t look at attractive people who make me vaguely horny!”

The words make Niall stop in his tracks, and he glances at Harry quickly, who’s gone ahead, but he grabs the collar of his new, white button down (Harry says it makes him chafe, bloody idiot), and pulls him back. Makes him look at him, and asks, “You’re walking a thin line there, mate-”

“Right, sorry, lesson nineteen, innuendos and the like are the bane of the universe, I’m sorry-”

“Only when it’s geared upon objects of affection that aren’t the one true affection, got it?” he says, and Harry nods, but his resolve is breaking. Feels the smile on his lips, sees it reflected on Harry’s face.

Then he feels a hand searching around his crotch area, trying for his dick, and he dishes a slap to the back of Harry’s head, shoves him off, laughing. Hears him laugh behind him as they make their way inside.

“Lesson number twenty-three! If it’s not on her body, then then you’ve got no business touching it!”

*

_“-I don’t know, Niall, I don’t know what to do, I know I’m supposed to be faithful and all, and I love my wife, but this girl, unbelievable, she’s, like-”_

“I’m trying not to judge you right now, mate, but it’s really hard,” Niall’s got a headache from the current caller. He’s figuring out what the nicest way of saying _‘You’re wasting my time, please end the call now twat.’_ Can see beside him that Nick is feeling the same way, rolling his eyes and flashing his phone at him, ‘TYGA 2.0’ on the screen.

_“I can’t help it, bro-”_

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me bro,” Niall says exasperatedly, and he should have figured sooner or later a real fuckboy would call in and try to pass off his ‘dilemma’ of not knowing who to fuck as a legitimate life-problem. Does he not listen to the show? Most people call in asking for advice on how to end things with twats like this. “Have you done anything with this girl?”

_“I have. Not, like, all the way, but enough that it’s worrisome that she’s just turned eighteen and-”_

“I would honestly love to hang up on you right now, you git,” Nick says, and Niall sighs, because it’s people like this that make the world the way it is.

Then, Clara comes in bearing a box, and Niall’s a little confused because her show doesn’t start for another hour, but she shuts his mic off with a deft click, and says, “This came for you, your boy dropped it off, lucky wanker.”

She turns it back on and leaves the room, and Niall stares at the box in front of him for a few good moments, Grimmy’s voice in the background still chewing the guy out, and he opens it.

Lying on top is a piece of paper, _‘#24: It’s the little things that matter. So, here’s a bunch of little things, because you wake up so arsing early every day. :) Don’t let the twats get you down!’_ in Harry’s handwriting, and inside, a take-away bag of McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches and wraps, an Americano from the cafe he’d mentioned to Harry he’d frequent before he’d go to work, a pillow, a box of his favorite tea, a bleeding _mixtape,_ Jesus, and. A flower crown. Much nicer than the one he’d given before, but all the same. It makes his heart race, makes him smile.

“Anytime you want to chime in, Heartbreak Hero, this is your segment, after all,” Nick throws a balled up piece of paper at his face, and Niall grins, giving him the finger, and he feels loads better, all of a sudden.

“Mate, I don’t know what to tell you,” Niall says, picking up the wreath of flowers carefully. “I don’t want to dismiss your, um, _problem_ , but it looks pretty clear to me on where you stand. You’re cheating, and with a girl who’s just grown past being a minor, and it’s so much more serious because you’re actually married. Do you have kids?”

_“Two. One’s five, the other two.”_

“Christ,” Niall mutters to himself, hoping the microphone doesn’t pick it up. “Okay, I’ll be straight, what made you want to cheat on your wife in the first place?”

_“She’s, I don’t know. Just not that interested anymore. She doesn’t even talk to me.”_

“Has it occurred to you that it’s because you’re bloody _cheating on her_ ,” Niall grits out, and Nick hits the applause button quickly. “Is that your reason? It’s because she won’t give it to you? That you’re not getting any?”

“Okay, I really will cut the line now,” Nick says.

 _“Isn’t that a bit inconsistent for you, Hero?”_ the guy sneers, and Niall’s blood boils. _“You’re supposed to help those who need it. Word’s gone ‘round that you’re even helping someone get their ex back, yeah? The magpie, if what’s going ‘round is true. So why shouldn’t you help me?”_

“Where’d you hear that from, you git?” Nick hisses, but Niall waves him off.

“At least the magpie returned what wasn’t his,” he says coldly. “His girl’s not interested in him anymore, hasn’t been for two months and he hasn’t gone off somewhere to get off. He complains about it a lot, but he doesn’t try to find relief in another person, much less a teenager. Believe it or not, he’s got a heart, unlike you. All you’re concerned about is your libido. There’s hope for him. Not for you, because you’re something that we like to call a snake. Worse than a magpie. You’re beyond help, or sympathy.”

Niall cuts the line before the bloke can say anything, and mutters into the mic, “Alright, have a horrible life, hope Nicki Minaj shades you in a music video as well.”

“May Beyonce bless your wife’s soul with the power and strength to leave your disgusting ass,” Grimmy adds, one hand up in the air in praise, the other trying to sneak it’s way into Niall’s care package, groping around for the McMuffin, before Niall slaps his hand away and gives it to him instead, both of them ignoring Bagsy’s gestures at the ‘No Eating While Inside the Studio’ sign at the other side of the glass.

*

“There’s something in the list that really bothers me,” Harry says flinging his legs over Niall’s lap. “I think it was on the second page, something about the way I kissed her.”

“Hmm, I remember that one,” Niall pushes Harry’s legs away, but lets him lay a hand on his lap. Puts his own hand over his, and it’s a violation of so many rules, but. He doesn’t have the heart to push it away. So many violations. “Said you always expected something after making out.”

“Isn’t that normal?” Harry pouts, gripping his thigh, and Niall has to push it away then. Feels himself getting attached, and it’s dangerous. “I mean, isn’t it safe to assume that we’d go further?”

“Not always,” Niall tells him with a bit of a frown on his face. “Look here, Harry. Lesson number twenty-eight-”

“There is no fucking way I’m going to remember all of these word per word,” Harry mumbles under his breath; Niall twists his nipple.

“-Twenty-eight: Ask before you grasp. Or kiss. Or anything sexual. You know, it’s fine if you ask someone if you can kiss them. Don’t just assume. If you ask them, it shows that you’re considerate, and that you respect the pace they want to set. It’s not all about you, you know, brings us back to lesson number five. The world doesn’t revolve around you, but yours should revolve around her.”

“But-”

“But what?” Niall glares at him. “Kissing is great, you know. Like, I could kiss for hours and I’d be good. Not all snogging sessions need to lead to shagging. Kissing is intimate, should be, at least. It’s sweet, and it can be sexy, but it’s romantic.”

“So, all those other times when she said she didn’t want to do more,” Harry says slowly, trying to comprehend.

“It’s not a bad thing, Harry,” he smiles. “Never a bad thing. She might want to stop, or she might just want to kiss. So you ask her. Don’t be so put out if she just wants to snog your face off, it’s a good thing!”

“It’s not bad, but-”

“You’re probably just shit, that’s why neither of you enjoy it that much,” Niall says, and Harry squawks in protest. “You might be great in bed, you might know how to use your dick, but if you don’t know how to kiss and use your lips in the simplest ways, then the ‘d’ really won’t be worth it.”

“It sounds boring, honestly,” Harry pouts at him, and Niall scoffs.

“Of course you would,” he mutters, then he shuffles around so he’s facing Harry, makes Harry move so they’re face to face. “You’ve got to appreciate the simple touches too, you know. She’s not just a sex object, is she?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then stop acting like this, and appreciate everything she lets you have,” Niall says, flicking at his forehead. Settles down, and his voice goes quiet and tender. “You might not appreciate or understand it now, but kissing, if done properly, it’s amazing. Slow, yeah, but that’s the point. The romance comes from that pace, the pace that you set. The moment before your lips touch, the way you touch her. Softly, carefully, make her feel loved and safe and needed, and- if you’re making fun of me, you twat.”

“I’m not, I swear,” Harry does a shit job of hiding his laughter, and moves closer to bring Niall in for a cuddle. Several violations. “It’s just. I don’t know, sweet. Very unlike you.”

“Have I not shown you these past two months that I can be bloody romantic at heart?” Niall scowls at him. “You know, I’m pretty sure that if you’d just been bloody romantic-”

“So you expect me to do this?” and before Niall can react, Harry’s got one hand brushing lightly at his cheek, slowly, tenderly. Feels the pad of his thumb on his bottom lip. Sees Harry move his head closer, close enough to brush his nose against his, feel his breath on his skin.

_Several violations._

Feels the light contact of Harry’s top lip against his own.

“Don’t,” he mumbles, not feeling very convinced in himself, but it’s enough.

Harry moves away, albeit slowly, still staring at Niall with wide eyes and pink cheeks, and Niall refuses to look at his lips. Rosy and pretty.

“Sorry,” Harry says, and Niall smiles at him, waves it off, but he knows. He’s not going to forget about this, any time soon.

He tries to convince himself it’s a bad thing.

*

“Oh, Harry, no,” it’s Matty of all people who reacts first, and he’s frowning at Harry, shaking his head. “No, why did you-”

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry admits quietly. “But. I won’t deny that I wanted to.”

“Harry, you fucking idiot,” Eleanor, of all people, swears at him. Glares at him from the kitchen area, taking the potatoes out of the oven. “I know I’d maybe mentioned it before in passing, but I would have thought that you would clean everything else up first.”

“You know, in all honestly, if you really did love Kendall, then you wouldn’t have developed feelings for Niall,” Gemma says, centering the chicken on the table. “So what? Do you love him?”

“I don’t know,” Harry says, groaning and hiding his face in his hands. “I don’t know, everything’s so unclear.”

“Then make it clear,” Louis says, sounding a little agitated from where he’s reviewing his case papers. “Fix everything with Kendall first, but if you do have feelings for Niall, then make sure you know what exactly those feelings are.”

“You need to know what it really is, and why you’re feeling that way,” El says, coming to the table with the potatoes in tow. “Do you like him? Or is it past that? Are you in love with him? Or do you just not like Kendall anymore and want to project your feelings on someone else?”

“And once everything is clear to you, make sure that it’s clear to them too,” Louis tells him, and Harry looks at them all. Doesn’t quite know what to do, even more so now than before.

*

He doesn’t know how he keeps ending up like this when it comes to Harry.

“Do you like him?” Sophia asks him quietly on his left, her arm around his middle as she rests her head on his chest and hooks her leg around his.

“I’d rather not think about it,” Niall answers honestly, rests his cheek on top of her head.

“Oh, Ni,” Liam mumbles on his other side, and he finds himself properly squished between them, and it takes him some time, but he falls asleep.

*

_“-I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do, on the one hand, I swore off boys when my fiance left me at the altar. But he makes everything feel so different. Like I’d been given another chance, and I don’t know what to do, Niall.”_

“Don’t we all,” Nick remarks, and he glances at Niall. Don’t know how he does it, how he can tell, but Niall has the feeling that Nick knows.

“Listen, Leigh,” he begins after swallowing, trying to unstick his throat. “I can’t tell you what to do in this situation, I honestly don’t know what I would do, either. But, at the end of it, all you can really trust is your own judgement, and let’s be honest, that doesn’t give you a lot of confidence, does it?”

_“No, hell no.”_

“I know the feeling, love,” Niall says, finally admitting it out loud, and he takes a deep breath before saying, “There’s two sides to the coin. You’ve got your heart, and your mind, yeah? And, I’m sure you know the feeling, you feel like a joy no other, this light but strange feeling in your chest, when you see him?”

_“Yes, yes exactly.”_

“It’s a great feeling, yeah?” he continues. “So much joy, so much love.” The word catches in his throat, and he swallows the residual feeling. Can’t wait until this phone call is over. “But in your head, everything is all jumbled up. You know it’s not that easy. That it goes against so many of your own principles.”

_“It really does. I thought I was over this, but. Turns out I’m not. And all it took was a guy to get me to start reevaluating things all over again.”_

“You know,” he says, thinking carefully. “Sometimes, that’s not a bad thing.”

_“So what should I do?”_

“I don’t know, love,” he says, “I really don’t, I’m sorry. But I can tell you this. I’ll tell you all this. Love can be a very confusing, fickle thing. I thought it just wasn’t in the cards for me, and I know there are a lot of you who might think the same way, because of what you’ve gone through, individually. But, if there was one thing, one person, who can make you think otherwise, then I. I am so happy for you. Because love, it’s not an awful thing. Scary, terrifying, but not awful, never awful, if it's the right kind, the real kind. Don’t be traumatized because of a snake, or a magpie, or. I don’t know. Don’t let them take that away from you, because that just makes you deserve it more. And whether you let them in or not, appreciate the person who makes you remember that it’s not so scary, after all. Appreciate them, treasure them, be thankful. Because even if it might not work out in the end, at least they made you see differently, and that’s all I can really ask for, for you.”

*

“Look at what he sent me,” Kendall gushes, showing Niall a necklace. Simple, a gold chain with a minimalist pendant hanging off the middle. “Whatever you taught him, Niall, thank you. I’m so impressed.”

“He is a good guy, honestly,” he replies, smiling softly. “He just needs proper direction.”

“And that care package was super thoughtful, too,” she says, smiling back as she takes a sip of her chai latte. “He got me lots of stuff. Things that reminded me of home, even somehow managed to get letters from my sisters. It was amazing.”

“It sounds it,” he replies, biting back the rest of his reply ( _“Yeah, me and Harry, we looked for them together. I helped him wrangle all of that shit together”_ ), and says instead, “Has he, um, has he talked to you, as of late?”

“No, actually, aside from this package and a few messages, we haven’t really been in touch,” she answers. “I thought that he wasn’t going to, you know.”

“Oh, no, he’s just been busy these past few weeks,” Niall says, feels his chest get a little tighter. “Just been reviewing, and all. Has he told you? He’s shifting out of the Business program, he wants to take up Music and English instead.”

“Music, and English?” she repeats, looking surprised. “Well, no, he didn’t tell me.”

“Oh, um, I guess he was just waiting for the right time,” Niall says, ears going red at his mistake. “He’s getting his act together. Going after what he really wants and pursuing it.”

“Well, I don’t know. I know it doesn’t really matter, but I had high hopes for him getting into business,” Kendall tells him. “My family’s full of entrepreneurs and all, so he could have fit in really well, but, you know. And Music or English, I mean. Those are pretty weak options.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he tries to laugh it off, but his heart drops a bit. He would have hoped she’d be more. Supportive. “But it’s good, though, that he’s getting his life together.”

“No, I know,, don’t get me wrong, that’s great,” she says. “But. It’s not like he’s very young-”

“He’s only 22,” Niall tells her, confused.

“That’s the thing, though. I thought by that now that he would be almost done with school, start working, but if he’s going to shift into another course altogether, that sets him back.”

“But at least he’s doing what he really wants,” Niall says, and he hopes it doesn’t come off as impatient. “Wouldn’t want to be with someone who resents what they do for the rest of their lives.”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” she shrugs, taking another sip of her tea. “At least he’s doing something with his life. Whenever I tried to talk to him about it, he just didn’t seem interested, so you must be really good. Really convincing, if you could get him to listen to you.”

“He’s a good listener, you know,” he says. “He’s. You’re very lucky, Kendall. He really did have it in him. You wouldn’t have thought that people can change, but they really can.”

“You have no idea how excited I am, to meet this new Harry,” she tells him with a grin. “Thank you, Niall.”

“It wasn’t any problem,” he says, smiling softly. “I hope everything turns out for the better.”

*

“This is making me _chafe_ -”

“Shut up, Harry,” he watches Niall roll his eyes, doubles over when he’s given a slap against his crotch area. “Looking good-”

“I hate it,” Harry mutters, staring at the reflection on the mirror in front of him. The button down is plain, no pattern or sheer fabric or anything, so _boring_. The blazer isn’t shimmery, and his slacks. They’re loose, and he’s in no way accustomed to the way he can feel the breeze around his dick. So strange.

“Well, this is the way a suit should be tailored,” Niall says, shrugging at him, then nodding at the tailor, “Thanks, Caz, looks great on him.”

“Would you fuck me in this-”

“Harry, the _fuck_ , shut your mouth and get changed,” Niall hisses at him, and Harry avoids the slap to the bum this time, but falls over trying to dodge it. “Fucking idiot-”

“Ni, come on, I’m just trying to make you smile,” Harry says, and he slinks over to him, cuddles him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Can almost hear the _‘several violations’_ ringing in Niall’s head. “Sorry, yeah? This is amazing. Got a proper suit now, feel like a Kingsman, Colin Firth, so sick. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Get dressed,” he mutters, and Harry accepts the slap this time with a grin, and goes over to the changing room with a kiss blown over his shoulder, which Niall returns with a glare.

“Are you not learning anything-”

“Course I am! Best teacher in the world, you are,” he calls out from behind the door as he strips. “I promise I’m listening. I’m sorry-”

“You know, lesson number twenty-nine: An apology will only ever mean something if you do something to fix what you’re apologizing for.”

“Of course there was a lesson for that-”

“Of course! Seriously, men will always find a way to disappoint the people in their lives, so there’s got to be a handbook of sorts on how to handle the mistakes we make,” Niall says, and Harry can’t decipher the rest of the words he says.

“Honestly, though, does it look okay?” Harry asks him when he gets out, handing over the suit to the attendant. “It’s a lot more formal than I would normally go for.”

“Meant only for the truly special occasions,” Niall says. “You might have only one suit for the rest of your life, but as long as it fits you perfectly, then no one should complain.”

“But it looks good?”

“A proper Colin Firth,” Niall tells him with a soft smile. “Very handsome, but I’ll admit, I prefer the see-through stuff and the printed tops and all the other stupid shit you wear. You seem more at home in those.”

“So you think I look good in everything, eh?” Harry grins at him, coming closer.

“Don’t be a twat, get the bags,” Niall says with a snort, and Harry smiles at him as he does as he’s told.

What happened the other day remains unmentioned. Seems to be an unspoken agreement between the two of them to not talk about it, and Harry doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.

He knows, though, that whenever Niall looks at him, the feeling doesn’t, hasn’t changed. Still feels like kissing him, maybe. Or holding his hand or hugging him or smiling at him, or.

Feels like things are looking much clearer, a lot brighter now than it did a few days ago.

“Can we go to Juicebaby? They’ve got those new kale drinks,” Harry asks him as they make their way out into the street, and Niall stares at him again, but it’s lost its effect on him, and he asks again, “Can we? I’ll pay for your drink, you should try it!”

“I will not drink blended up leaves, Harry,” Niall mutters.

“But it really is good, Ni!”

“Shut it, where’s Liam-”

“Over there, by Juicebaby,” he says, gesturing over to where Liam’s stood with Sophia, talking to another couple he can’t see. “Come on, Niall, he’s right there, I can’t not go and get some-”

It takes a bit before he realizes that Niall’s stopped walking. Looks behind and sees him frozen, staring at them.

“Niall?”

He doesn’t react, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. Harry looks back at the group, and then he realizes whom Liam and Sophia are talking to, and starts feeling a bit starstruck. Sees Zayn Malik and a visibly pregnant Perrie Edwards, maybe halfway through her pregnancy, smiling and laughing and they look generally very pleasant, on a date, probably. Harry’s never really followed Zayn’s career or religiously listened to his music, but he does think that his voice really is something to behold.

He looks back at Niall, a little confused, and asks, “Do you know him?” Doesn’t seem like Niall’s starstruck, or anything, and it's quite strange because Niall has never struck him to be the type to get nervous around famous personalities.

“I do,” Niall says quietly, and he glances at Harry, a nervous glint in his eyes. “Shit, Haz.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks him, walking back to him and offering his free hand for him to hold. To his surprise, Niall does take it, grasps it tightly. “Niall? What is it?”

He shakes his head, muttering under his breath, “It’s nothing. I just wasn’t expecting to see him. Or her. Of all days for them to be out.”

It’s not really a proper answer, but Harry finally understands. Looks back, and finds that the four of them are staring back. Focuses on Zayn’s shy, unsure smile, Perrie’s offered wave and their linked hands between them, her other hand resting on the swell of her growing belly. They are a beautiful couple, truth be told. Look genuinely quite happy.

He glances back at Niall, sees him smiling sadly at them, hand up in greeting. Makes him grip his other hand tighter, thumb sweeping over his skin to try to anchor him down, to comfort him. Comes slightly closer, brings his lips up to his ear, and says softly, “Do you want to get out of here?”

It’s not much, almost imperceptible, but he feels the slight shift of Niall’s head beside his, and the brush of his lips against the outer rim of his ear, a quiet, “Dinner would be good.”

*

“I recommend the buttermilk chicken with the cornbread doughnuts,” Niall tells him, and Harry can feel the judgment radiating in waves. “Best thing on the menu. A little heavy, but-”

“Why did I let you choose the restaurant?” Harry mutters as he peruses the menu. “Should have known that you would pick a place that lacks any sort of remotely healthy option.”

“Excuse you, this place is plenty pretentious, they’ve got lamb and halibut and a fucking wine menu,” Niall mutters, kicking him under the table. Harry takes the opportunity to hook his foot around his, and peers over the top of his folder to see Niall turn the slightest bit pink. “Get your foot off, you twat.”

“Alright,” he grins, doing as he’s told. “You mentioned halibut?”

“Pretty sure it’s served with a quinoa salad, thought of you when I ordered it,” Niall tells him, and it unexpectedly warms his heart, makes his chest a little tighter and much lighter, all at the same time. “Always order the chicken or the chops when I come here, but with you nagging on me about my health and everything, decided to try it. It was pretty good. Really. Fresh.”

“I’m very proud,” Harry says solemnly, “quinoa and halibut and. Bacon vinaigrette. Unbelievable. That cancels out the other stuff-"

"Then get a bleeding salad, you're unbelievable," he says, exasperated. "Or, maybe share the chicken with me? Not really healthy, fine, but maybe if you don't eat so much of it, it won't be too bad, yeah?"

"The cornbread doughnuts do sound good," he ponders, tries to push to the back of his mind the thing Liam had divulged to him the other day, a passing observation while they were washing dishes and Sophia and Niall were laughing in the living room, a little tipsy on wine. _"Niall hates sharing his food. Guilt trips me all the time when I try to get a little bit off his plate. He hardly reacted when you did it. Even gives you some himself, it's a bit odd."_

"They make me cry, a bit, how good they are," Niall agrees, just as seriously. "Have been the best pick me up. Especially when. You know."

Harry looks at him then, Niall back to staring at his menu blankly. "Bloody great then that you have a fast metabolism," he says, tries to diffuse the tension a bit.

"Really is," he replies. "Thank you for getting me out of there. It's not that we're not civil, you know? We are, but it's just hard."

"You don't need to explain yourself to me, Ni," Harry tells him with a tender smile. Holds out his hand on the table, and is doubly pleased when Niall takes it again without any hesitation, more now than a while ago because it's because he wants to. Not because he needs reassurance or support. "You handled that so well."

"He and Li were friends too," Niall says, gripping his hand. The touch is warm, and firm but gentle. "Did some collaborations, not all of them were released, of course. But they always did get on."

"Did Liam know about everything that happened between the two of you?"

"How could he not?" he chuckles. It doesn't sound the least bit hollow. "Who else would I go to? Shoulder to cry on and willing ear for cursing out, Liam's the best. He always took my side too."

"Everyone should take your side," Harry mutters, and the little happy look Niall gives him makes this little surge of pride take over his entire being. _‘I made him smile! Fuck you all, I made him smile. Let's see what you lot accomplish today.’_

"That's not always true, I am problematic as well. Just, you know, not as," he says. "I don't know. They looked happy, didn't they? He never really looked like that when we were together."

"You two kept it a secret?"

"Only Liam, Soph, and our families knew," Niall confirms. "Not because he didn't want people to act out because he was into guys, you know. It was common knowledge that he'd been with men before. But I was virtually an unknown. Had famous friends, I guess, but that was it. At first, it was for my benefit. Not to have his fans breathing down my neck and all. He wanted to protect me from all that, so. I understood.

"But the secrecy wore him down, I think," he continues, voice subtly softer, more melancholic. "It also worked in is advantage. Could go around with who he wanted, people wouldn't care as much, wouldn't report it to the one waiting for him at home. I still found out, yeah? But it would have definitely have been easier if we were out there in public as a couple."

"And now he gets to be happy and go out with his pregnant fiancé," Harry says. Feels like his blood is boiling for Niall's unfair situation. It's not fair. "While you have to escape and live with all of this quietly. It's so many levels of not cool."

"I've just been one of the unluckiest ones, then," Niall shrugs, and it makes him so bleeding _mad_. How resigned he could be about all this, when he has every right not to be. "Maybe love really just isn't for me, in the end."

"Don't say that," Harry tells him. Looks him straight in the eye and tells him with utmost honesty and belief and faith. "I don't believe in that kind of fate for you."

 _Several violations,_ his mind supplies, but he doesn't care anymore. Knows how sure he is now. Feels like all this learning and improving, it's not meant for Kendall at all. For him to be a better man for her, but actually, to be a better man for the one seated across him. Who defends him and has chosen to help him and still, at the end of the day, accepts him for who he is at his core, sees him beyond his twattish fuckboy ways. Knows he'd quite like to give Niall another chance to think otherwise on his fate, but it's not up to him.

"You, of all people, deserve-"

"You little _shit_!"

Suddenly, he feels an onslaught of cold cold _cold_ drowning him, coming from above. Suspects from the surprised gasp and yell that Niall's gotten the same treatment as well.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, looks to see who doused him with what has to be a gallon of ice water, and sees it's the manager of the restaurant, the shocked and wide-eyed attendants pushed to the side, trays with empty pitchers on them. Brown hair, nice face that would otherwise be lovely but is at the present very mad and furious, and-

" _Oh shit_ , Caroline," he says, recognizing her from years before. One of his first girlfriends, ended notably horribly. "What-"

"That's for not telling me you weren't legal yet," she huffs at him, "You little twat. Wasn't surprised to hear on the radio about you wreaking havoc on another poor girl's life."

"Caroline," he tries to begin, teeth shivering a little bit as he feels the water drip down from his hair, the end of his nose.

"And I suppose you're trying to rope a new one in," she continues, looking over to Niall. He's sopping as well. "Don't waste your time with this one," she tells Niall, "just giving you a wake-up call."

She stalks off, leaving many shocked waiters and diners staring at what's left of the scene.

"Niall," he says, looking back at him, and, to his surprise, he's laughing. Chuckling under his breath and pushing back his hair from his face and that was much more attractive than Harry would like to admit at the moment.

"Well, I know I'll never be able to eat here with you again," is what he says, laughing, and Harry sighs in relief.

"Come on, my place is closer than yours," Harry says, standing up, and he winces at the cold seeping into his jeans. "You can clean up there."

*

The air's a little different this time, for some reason. Feels like there's electricity, of some sort, tinging the air with a different energy.

"Tea?" Harry offers as they go through the kitchen, waits for Niall's subtle shake of his head in refusal before he ushers him into his bedroom. "I'll get you some clothes-"

"Nothing see-through or printed, please."

"You just said you liked them more than the other shit!" he pouts.

"Because you looked happier in them, you idiot," Niall snorts at him, arms crossed and sweeping his still damp hair off his face again in a way that Harry wouldn't mind seeing him do, over and over. "Not meant for everyone, that style. Definitely not for me."

"Fine, fine, bet you'd look good in them anyway," Harry mutters, rummaging through his closet, manages to find one of his white shirts that he hasn't used in a while, and a pair of joggers Louis forced him to buy last Christmas, but hasn't actually worn. Not tight enough for his junk honestly.

"I hope these are okay," he hands them over to Niall, who thanks him quietly with a smile. "Bathroom’s the first door to the left of the hallway, if you don’t remember. I'll, um, I'll be out in the kitchen if you need me-”

“Don’t be a wanker, it’s not like it matters,” Niall scoffs, stripping off his shirt quickly, and Harry knows it’s against so many rules, but he stares. Likes what’s in front of him, very much.

Niall’s not usually the type of person Harry would go for, is attractive, definitely, but not in the way Harry’s used to. Slender and trim, but defined, with broad shoulders and a broad jawline and slim waist, and he’s. Quite beautiful. More than that, though, is the way Niall makes him feel. Wants to hug and hold and kiss and stay.

“It matters,” he murmurs when he looks away, hoping to be discrete, but he’s heard anyway.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Niall asks, still shirtless, and his blue eyes pierce him. Bright and inquisitive and it makes everything so, so clear, and he has to.

He comes closer, until he’s toe to toe with him, and he looks right into those eyes. Asks, because lesson number 28, “Can I kiss you?”

Niall’s eyes widen, mouth opens the slightest bit in surprise, and stays silent. Like he can’t come up with the words, for once. Harry bites his lip, steps even closer, places one hand on Niall’s hip, the other on his cheek, and repeats his question. “Can I kiss you? If it’s alright?”

Niall stares at him, but doesn’t move away. Closes his mouth slightly, and searches his eyes, and nothing’s made Harry feel so nervous. Makes his heart race with anticipation and the best and worst kind of fear and it makes him feel a little heady.

Niall gives him a nod.

Harry beams, so happy, and he kisses him sweetly. Presses his lips on Niall’s, and he feels his chest go so light and it feels wonderful. He pulls Niall’s body to his, feels hands press unto his arse, and it surprises him that Niall is responding the way he is. Pulls away for a moment, rests his forehead against his and steals his breath from his lips because he can’t quite find his.

“I like you, very much,” Harry murmurs, hands coming up to hold Niall’s neck. Keep him anchored and close. “I like this. I. I never realized, that this could be good.”

“Maybe you just never did it right,” Niall mutters, his thumb digging into his hip.

“Maybe I just never did it with the right person,” Harry replies, and he kisses him again. Licks into his mouth when Niall parts his lips, and it’s like the charge in the atmosphere is making its way to his skin. Makes him feel so alive and. In the moment.

“Twat,” Niall says against his mouth. “You’re. Actually doing the romance thing. Really well.”

“Just for you,” he replies with a smile, kissing the corner of his mouth, cry-laughs when Niall twists his nipple to get him moving. “Wanker.”

“Okay, then go do that,” he says, and it makes his blood warm up. Makes him feel hot all over.

It takes a bit of time, but eventually, Harry manages to get them to his bed, a whispered _“Do you want to lay down,”_ and a _“Yeah, that would be good,”_ the longest phrases said between the two of them, and Harry finds himself on his back, Niall pressed on top of him, body warm and comforting and his hands playing with the hem of his shirt.

“May I take this off?” he asks quietly, and Harry kisses him again, mumbling against his lips, “Why are you being so fucking polite-”

“Sorry for being a gentleman, christ,” Niall mutters, and he removes his shirt, slowly, carefully with slight difficulty because it’s stuck to his skin. He pauses once it’s completely off, and it makes Harry a little nervous. He knows he’s a generally good-looking person. Knows he’s quite fit, has a nice body that he works hard for, and his tattoos do him a lot of good and attract attention, but it feels different now. The slightest hover of his fingers over Harry’s ribcage, his chest, his hip, makes his breath catch in his throat. The mouth against the hollow of his throat make him that much more conscious of his heart threatening to beat right out of his body, makes him sure of the fact that it can somehow be felt there. The soft, _“Beautiful,”_ murmured for his ears only, so much more real and. Honest.

“This is so weird,” Niall murmurs, “Good weird, but weird, all the same.”

“Only as weird as you make it to be, Ni,” he says, accepting the twist to his other nipple and Niall’s snort because he is quite ridiculous and really just nervous. Fucking ridiculous. He’s nervous in bed, once in his life. Wants this to be good, however far they go.

He pulls Niall's face down, kisses him again, and he kind of understands the feeling now. Just kissing until your mouth is numb and being okay with it, liking it. Feels intimate and soft and, alright. This is weird, but the best kind.

"Is there something in the rules against me asking you to stay the night?" Harry asks against his mouth. "Because I'd like nothing more."

"Just ask," he mumbles, drawing back slightly so he can look him properly.

"Okay. Please stay," he says, his fingers slipping into the waistband of Niall's jeans, still damp.

"Okay," is Niall's reply, and he kisses Harry, deep and wonderful. "Okay. What do you want to do?"

Harry doesn’t reply with words, instead, he surges up, kissing him, and brings his hand to cup Niall’s arse, makes him shove his crotch down to his, drags their covered erections together.

“ _Okay_ , you could have said,” Niall mutters against his lips, coming closer and biting on Harry’s lip. Places his hands on his hips, squeezing at his love handles, his thumbs slipping beneath the waistband. He makes work of removing Harry’s jeans, peeling them off of his legs, and takes off his own.

“You could take off my boxers too, you know-"

"Shut it, romance is a slow dance-"

"And what lesson number is that?"

Niall groans, frustrated and irritated, but he doesn't delay much more. Rids himself and Harry of their underwear, and he smirks when he lines their cocks together, sliding against him deliciously. Harry moans, grips his biceps and shoves his tongue into Niall's mouth.

"Please, Ni, please-"

"What do you want?" he asks, sounding so far gone as he takes hold of their erections in his hand, deft, strong fingers slowly jerking them off. "Holy _fuck_ , Haz, tell me what you want-"

Harry answers him by rolling them over, straddles his lap and thrusts against him, kissing him all the while. Hands touching everything he can reach, takes in his pale skin that glows, almost. Seems like sunshine personified. He's lean and thin and wholly beautiful, wants him in every way he can get.

"Suppose you don’t have some rules for this part, then?” he asks him, rolling down and making Niall moan loudly.

“She didn’t have anything to say about this,” he replies, cupping his face and pulling him down for a kiss. “Said you were great in bed.”

“Bet you are, too,” he says, reaching over to his bedside table, manages to get his lube and a condom from the drawer. "Want you in me, is that alright?"

"More than," Niall presses his lips to the corner of his mouth, "How do you want me?"

"Like this is fucking fantastic," he takes the lube, spreads some of it on his fingers, and reaches behind himself to get at his hole. "You enjoy yourself, Ni-"

"Fuck no, I'm not just going to watch when you do that," he scoffs, getting some lube on his fingers as well, holds his hip, squeezes at his love handle with his clean hand, the other coming to tease at his rim.

"Never met anyone quite so mouthy during sex," Harry mutters, biting his bottom lip as he pushes his forefinger in slowly, and then moaning outright when Niall enters his as well alongside it. "Fucking-"

"You alright there?” Niall smirks at him, looking smug as he leaves a trail of kisses along his jaw. Fucking wanker.

He inserts another finger into himself, pushes in as Niall pulls back, and they work him open in tandem, and he has to bite Niall’s shoulder at how good it feels.

“Think I’m good, now,” he says, rising up on his knees as he keeps his body close to him. Niall sits up straighter, settles so his back is against the headboard to steady himself, and he pulls out his finger, wipes it on the bedsheet despite Harry’s frown and glare, just rolling his eyes as a reply. Rolls the condom down his dick deftly, and Harry pulls on it a few times, a few moans humming at the back of Niall’s throat.

Harry clings to him as he pushes Niall’s cock into his arse, settles into his lap as he bottoms out, flings his arms over Niall’s shoulders and burying his face in his neck.

“You okay there?” Niall asks him, voice uncharacteristically soft in his ear as he anchors him down, his hands a strong grip on his hips.

“Been awhile since I’ve bottomed,” Harry replies, focuses on adjusting with Niall’s dick up his arse, trying to savor the feeling of him inside. “Sorry-”

“In no rush,” he says quietly, hands gliding up and down his back, lips pressed to his cheek.

He takes a few moments, breathing deeply and trying to get used to the sensation of being so full, but he rolls his hips experimentally, not much, but it makes Niall groan all the same, gripping at his waist as he helps him move on his cock. It makes his skin feel like it’s catching fire, in the best way, and he clutches his shoulders, rides him as best as he can, up and down.

Niall makes him lean back a bit, moving along with him so their chests are still quite flush, and when he shoves his hips up, it makes stars explode behind his lids, the head of his cock brushing against his prostate, and he lets out a moan, louder than any he’s let out before, and he’s pretty sure he wrecks his throat with it. He lets Niall fuck him, lets him move him up and down his length as he thrusts up to hit that spot over and over and he gets lost in it, doesn’t want it to end.

Eventually, he feels Niall slow down in his arms, his muscles trembling a bit against his fingertips, so he murmurs in his ear, “Let me.” Makes him lean back on the headboard properly and really rides him then. Presses his hands on Niall’s hard stomach as he moves his hips in figure-eights and bouncing up and down alternatively, getting his dick in deeper and in him just the way he likes it. Feels so bloody good, and he knows from the way that Niall’s moaning and gripping his thighs, it must be bloody amazing for him as well.

“C’mere,” Niall says, sits up and puts his hand behind his neck, pulls him down for a hard, bruising kiss, and his other hand cups his ass, squeezes in time with his rolls.

It doesn’t take much longer for the heat to build up in the pit of his stomach, and he says quietly, voice a little higher-pitched than usual, “I’m- not going to take long, I’m-”

“Fuck, _fuck,_ your fucking arse, fucking shit,” Niall breathes out, moving to pull Harry off in time with the movement of his hips, and it makes Harry’s brain short-circuit, almost. “Shit, _shit_ -”

Niall comes then, can feel his cock jerk and throb inside him, hips thrusting up in minute shoves as he rides out his high, and the insane, strangely beautiful sound he makes sends Harry off, makes him come in Niall’s hand, releasing over their chests. Makes him shake with the force of it, going sensitive all over.

He collapses on Niall, falls on him, and he catches him in his arms, lifting him off of his softening dick, and lays him down beside him.

“There’s a towel or something in the other drawer, don’t use my shirt,” he mumbles, and Niall laughs at him, does as he’s told and wipes them both down quietly.

“Little spoon,” Harry says softly, moving to lie on his side, and he hums, pleased when Niall moves to be his big spoon, arm over his waist protectively, pulling the covers over them. Falls asleep with lips pressed lightly against the back of his neck.

*

Niall wakes up to a phone ringing.

He yawns, drawing Harry’s warm body closer to his as he stretches, retrieves his phone from the table, and swipes the screen to answer the call, “Hello?”

_“….Niall? What-why are you answering Harry’s phone?”_

Holy shit. “Kendall, hi.”

He moves carefully, trying not to rustle too much and disturb Harry from his sleep, and he sits up on the edge of the bed, blinking at the sunlight coming in from the window. “Harry and I were, um. Buying some things, for something special, at the market. He told me to guard his phone, he went off to chase some vendor who had these bougainvilleas.”

 _“Oh,”_ she says, _“Bougainvilleas?”_

“Flowers, quite dainty, very brightly colored,” Niall explains, hoping it suffices.

 _"Okay,"_ she seems satisfied, and it relieves him. Hopes the sigh he let's out isn't audible. _"Something special?"_

"You'll see," is what he says, feeling his breath lock up in his throat. Like it doesn't want to let the words out. "How are you?"

_"I'm good. Just wanted to call Harry and see how he's been. I know it's not really advisable, like, he should work to get me back, but I've really missed him."_

"Yeah, I understand," he feels his chest throb then. Feels the weight of last night crashing down on him, suffocating him. "I'll tell him you called? I can't seem to find him, he's gone off somewhere, can't see him."

_"Please, that would be great. Thank you Niall. For everything. Don't think I mentioned it before, but you really are quite a hero."_

"Yeah, no problem love," he says, and he has to hang up then. Doesn't need to feel more guilty than he already does.

He drops the phone on the bed, leans forward with his elbows on his knees, and he hides his face in his hands, breathing deeply. He’s so, so fucked, for many different reasons. He can’t believe he’s let himself do something so mindlessly, and what more, want to do it again, over and over.

“Ni?” Arms slink around his waist, and he feels Harry press his chest on to his back, leaving sleepy, soft kisses over his shoulder blades. “Ni, what’s wrong?”

He takes deep breaths, slowly, steeling himself, and says, “I have to go. We should never have done that.”

“What? Niall, wait-”

He stands up, finds his otherwise now dry clothes on the floor and starts pulling them on. “We never should have done that, Harry, it was a stupid thing to do. I'm supposed to be helping you with your girl, and here I am sleeping with you-"

"Niall, wait," Harry says, reaching out and touching his arm, trying to get him to calm down. "Can we please talk about this first?"

"What's there to say? I fucked you, even though I shouldn't have," Niall tells him, pulling his shirt on.

"I asked you to," he says, and Niall shakes his head, tells himself to _leave._

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'll just go," he says, feeling like his chest is getting a little crushed, "I'm so sorry-"

"Niall," Harry sounds like he's pleading, and it overwhelms him. Makes his breath catch in his throat, and he has to shut his eyes, has to tell his heart to stop beating so fast. "Please talk to me, I don't know what going on."

"She called you," he says quickly, wants it out of his system. "She called you and I answered by mistake and she misses you. She misses you and I lied to her. I can't do this."

"Niall, please-"

"I need to go," he says, trying to sound firm but he knows his voice wavers. "Please. I need time to think. Please let me have that."

Harry looks at him, eyes wide and sad and surprised, and he looks so unlike himself. Niall has to force himself from kissing him, just to get him to smirk or smile or. Not look like he does now. But he says softly, "Okay, if you need it."

"I do."

"Okay," he says, his grip on his arm loosening, "okay." He kisses his cheek tenderly, and the action makes Niall's heart jump to his throat, makes it so hard to take his leave.

"I'll, yeah, alright. Take care of yourself, Harry," he says, takes his stuff and forces himself to walk out, to not look back and see the sad look on Harry's face.

*

"You've not heard from him?" Eleanor asks him as he looks down at the meal she's made for him. It looks delicious, but he's just not that hungry.

"Been two days," Harry replies, pushing his plate to Lou when he pokes his arm for it. "Was it wrong for me to sleep with him?"

"Considering that you and Kendall aren't exactly together, we can't call it cheating," Louis says. "But then again, you've been working your arse off just to convince her to be with you again."

"I know," he says, frustrated with himself. "I know, but. I don't regret anything that happened with Niall. It never felt that way, with anyone else. I don't feel the way I feel about him with any other person."

"You love him, then?" she asks him quietly.

"I do," the answer slips out of him, so easily and without thought. It shocks him, a little, but it also doesn't.

"Then tell him," Louis says, "tell him and tell her. Make it clear to both of them and don't lead them on much more."

"I-shit-"

His phone dings in front of him, and he sees that Niall’s sent him a message. Opens it, and it reads: _‘Come to the place I showed you. Tonight at 8.’_

“Shit,” he mutters, reading the message over and over. “He wants to see me tonight-”

“Tell him, then,” El tells him, “tell him and see where it goes from there.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” he asks softly, not wanting to think of a scenario where Niall would reject him.

“I highly doubt that,” Louis snorts. “But even if he doesn’t, then at least he knows, Haz. At least he knows that he didn’t mean nothing to you, and that if anything, he’s made you a better person. It’s quite a lot to lose, but at least you wouldn’t be lying.”

*

Harry gets to the place a little less than ten minutes early. It’s as beautiful as he remembers, and there are lights strung up in the garden, hanging over a small table setting made for two.

He feels his heart race a bit at the sight, and he looks around, sees that he’s the only person here so far. Makes his way nervously to the table and sits in one of the chairs.

“Niall, I need to be honest with you,” he goes over what he plans to say in a hushed voice, wiping his clammy palms on his thighs. “I don’t think it’s right for me to lie- no, to hide the truth from you. I need to tell you how I feel. I wasn’t, shit, I wasn’t lying, when I told you I liked you. But, _fuck,_ fucking shit, damn it, Ni, um, I have to tell you I feel more deeply for you now. I don’t-”

“Harry?”

He looks up at the voice, decidedly not Niall’s, and is dumbfounded to see Kendall standing in front of him, beautiful and elegant and not at all who he wanted to see. Can almost feel the very visceral drop of his heart, falling to his stomach.

“Hi, Harry,” she says, coming forward, and he stands up, not knowing what to do, but she steps in front of him, wraps her arms around him, and it feels so wrong. This is what he’s been working for, for the past two and a half months, and it doesn’t feel like anything. “I’ve missed you.”

He stays silent, hugging her back even though he wants to leave and go find wherever Niall might be. Be where he is.

She moves away, smiling at him, then takes the other seat, and he finds himself sitting down as well as a waiter comes out from nowhere and serves them soup.

“A gift from Mr. Horan,” he says, presenting a bottle of champagne to them, and pouring them both a generous flute.

“He planned all of this?” Harry asks, feeling a little angry because none of this makes any sense.

“Yes, he did,” the waiter replies, “He sends his regards. Enjoy your meal.”

“Well, I was hoping you would have been the one to do all of this, but it’s okay,” she says after they’re left alone. “I wouldn’t really expect anything like this from you anyway. It’s the little things, I guess.”

“Yeah, alright,” he mutters, watching her spoon the soup into her mouth in small sips, not touching his own. “So he told you to come here as well?”

“He did,” she replies. “Thought you were telling him to send the message, wanted to keep it a surprise, but that’s not the case. Oh, so these are the bougainvilleas?”

“What?” he says, and she’s gesturing to the centerpiece. A little wreath of bright pink flowers and vines centered between them.

“He said you were off looking for these, the other day, that’s why you couldn’t get to your phone,” she tells him, looking a little confused. “You don’t recognize them?”

“I don’t,” he decides to be honest.

“Oh, well,” she says awkwardly, “I heard you were shifting?”

“I am,” he replies, keeping his answers short.

“What made you do it?” she asks him. “I mean, you were almost done.”

“I wasn’t happy with what I was doing,” he answers simply. “Niall told me to be honest with myself so that I wouldn’t drag down everyone around me, and I’ve never looked more forward to my future. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yeah, of course, but music doesn’t exactly scream focus, Harry,” she says a little impatiently. “Or a good future, to be honest.”

“Okay,” he says, and he can’t quite do this anymore. “Okay, I need to be honest with you.”

“Honest about what?”

“About everything I’ve learned,” he says. “About what I feel, about everything.”

He prepares himself, taking a discrete breath, and tells her sincerely, “Ken, I’m sorry. I can’t do this with you.”

She stares at him, and it feels like forever, but she says quietly, “Is it me?”

“No, no it’s not, it’s me,” he says, and it’s a pathetic excuse, but it’s the truth.

“So is there somebody else?” she asks, straight to the point, and he feels all his words leave him.

He looks at her, knowing it’s not enough, but he tries to convey his apology through his eyes, through his face, and she leans back in her chair, arms crossed as she sighs.

It feels horrible, but it doesn’t feel like it was the wrong thing to do. He takes what he can get.

*

“Good morning, Heroes,” he greets, voice softer today and he’s so tired. Knows Grimmy is shooting him concerned glances, and the producers are watching with the same kind of look from the other side of the glass. “Wow, ha. It looks like our segment can bring people together, a love connection of sorts. Before I forget, let’s greet two very special people, Kendall, our lovely California goddess, and Harry, her boyfriend,” he forces the last word out, feeling his throat get a little clogged.

He gestures for Nick to play the _‘applause’_ sound clip, and he smiles a little, feeling the tears build up in his eyes, making them sting.

“The love story awaited by many, just saw its happy ending. Got back together last night with a romantic dinner under the stars,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady, but the pressure in his chest makes it so hard. “Congratulations, you two.”

He can hear Grimmy shut off his own mic, and can feel him staring at him sadly. He goes on, “Haha, the world works in mysterious ways, doesn't it? No matter how hard you try to keep two people away from each other, they’ll find a way back to where they belong.”

The first tear slips out, and they follow, one after the other, and he breathes deeply, trying to control himself, and he’s never felt so sad. He sighs, and says, “Just means two people can be happy, despite everything. Love’s like that, you know. Makes you hurt, sometimes to the point of crying, ha. But in the end, it gives you happiness like nothing else.

“So for all my Heroes out there, I’ve got something to tell you,” he says, voice going wobbly as he continues to cry. “True love does exist, after all. Makes the cynics scoff, sure, but it’s out there. And to Kendall and Harry, _#hendall_ trending, don’t let go of what you have. Happy endings are so difficult to come by, so many people dream of what you two have. Don’t waste that second shot.

“And to Harry,” he says, rubbing his chest with his palm, trying to relieve the pain at least a little bit, but it’s so hard. Feels like it’s eating him alive, “Don’t forget what I’ve taught you, yeah? ‘Niall’s Guide On How To Win Back The Girl,’ patent pending. Magpie becomes the perfect boyfriend. Thank you for making me reconsider, that people can change after all. Though, you have to know, you were already there. Just needed the right push, and I'm honored to have been that for you. Couldn’t have had a better first student.”

He cries then, shuts his mic off and wipes his tears, and it hurts. Not like the way it had hurt with Zayn. Different, so painful, and he’s so sad. He can hear Grimmy talking in the background, bringing them to a break, and then an arm comes around him, knows it’s Nick, and he hugs him, needing the comfort as he tries to calm down. Tries to reconcile with the fact that he’s lost his love.

*

Harry’s got his phone up to his ear, and he’s a mess, tears all over his face as he tries Radio 1’s number, tries Niall’s number, and Nick’s even, but he gets nothing. The radio’s on at The Breakfast Show, but they’ve been playing music without breaks for the past forty minutes, and he’s sent what feels like fifty messages, but he feels like Niall’s turned his phone off.

“Harry,” Louis murmurs, trying to get him to calm down as he rubs his back, and it does little to appease him. “Harry, don’t overwork yourself over this-”

“You can talk to him later,” El tells him, soothing him as best as she can.

*

Niall doesn’t answer his phone all day. Neither do Sophia or Liam.

*

Niall doesn’t even say anything when he gets home. Just goes straight to his room and draws the curtains, lays down on the bed. It hardly takes Liam and Soph five minutes to come in and lay down on either side.

*

“You alright there, NiNi?” Nick asks him when he comes in for work the next day, and he feels a little less tired, but the tight feeling in his chest is still present as ever.

“I’m okay,” he replies quietly with a smile, settles into his seat and puts his headphones on. “Been a rough few days. Thanks for being so understanding, Grimmy.”

“At your pace, Ni,” he says, taking a call the producers are patching through.

He’s already got a caller for the day, but he wants nothing more but to go home. Sighs a bit as he turns on his microphone, and says in his happiest voice, “Here to save you from your love woes, it’s the Heartbreak Hero!”

_“Hello, Niall. Do you remember me?”_

__

*

“You know, if Niall wants to talk to Harry, he’ll contact him personally,” Louis says as they get into the car, Harry taking the driver’s seat silently beside him. “Right now, we could do with a bit of sun, though. Finally go to Brighton like we said we would.”

“Oh, shut it, Lou,” El says from the backseat, and Louis does as he’s told, as per usual, and turns on the radio. Pauses when it’s on at Radio 1, Niall’s show just having started. “Do you want me to change the station?”

“No, it’s alright,” Harry says, starting the car. He misses his voice already.

_“Hello, Niall. Do you remember me?”_

_Shit._

“Shit, that’s-”

Harry waves for him to shut up, has to hear Niall reply, _“Oh! Um, hello, I’m sorry. I get many calls a day, so-”_

_“It’s Kendall.”_

He doesn’t think. Just moves out of the driveway and rushes towards BBC’s headquarters.

“Oh my god,” he can hear Eleanor murmur but he focuses on the road, probably breaking a million road laws, but he has to make it to Niall before this gets really bad.

_“Oh, hi Kendall, how are you and Harry?”_

_“We’re actually not together anymore,”_ she replies coldly, makes Harry’s own blood run cold. _“That little dinner you set up for us? He broke up with me there.”_

_“Oh, I’m sorry to-”_

_“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know what happened, Niall,”_ she says, cutting him off. _“I thought you were supposed to be helping me and him get back together. He told me there was someone else. I may not be the smartest person in the world, but even I could figure out who that was.”_

“No, no, no,” Harry mutters, trying to urge the car to go faster. “No, oh my fuck, Niall-”

 _“Kendall, I honestly didn’t know that you broke up,”_ Niall tells her sincerely, _“I thought-”_

 _“Did you two have something?”_ she asks, voice sharp and venomous. _“Did you two do stuff behind my back?”_

The radio, and the car, is silent. Practically feels like the whole bloody world is listening into this phone call right at the moment.

 _“Kendall, I won’t lie to you,”_ Niall says, voice steady. _“Harry and I. I’m not proud of it, but we did. We did have something-”_

 _“I trusted you, you know. I thought you were my friend!”_ she spits at him, words barbed and meant to hurt. _“You say you’re the champion of those who’ve been cheated on, those who’ve had their hearts broken, but you’re the one who breaks people’s hearts. You’re the liar, you’re the cheater, you are the worst kind of person!”_

“Kendall, shut up,” Harry hisses at the radio, honks on his horn when the traffic won’t move. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

 _“Kendall, please,”_ Niall’s voice is as serious, as quiet as Harry’s ever heard it. _“I never meant for any of it to happen. I promise you, I was just trying to help you both-”_

 _“Bullshit!”_ Her swear rings out, and Harry’s blood boils in anger. _“You talk so much bull-”_

 _“Kendall, you’re about to get cut off if you’re not careful about what you say,”_ Nick chimes in, sounding just a little less indignant than what Harry feels.

 _“God, shut up, Grimshaw, no one likes you,”_ she says, voice hard and cruel. _“Fine, let’s say you were trying to help me. That what you two did was in the heat of passion or whatever. But you don’t deserve to give the advice you’re giving, Niall. Tell me, straight to the point. Do you love Harry?”_

Everything’s silent again. He can feel El’s and Lou’s stares as the silence stretches on, and he can almost picture Niall, opening his mouth but nothing coming out. Can feel his heart race to the point that it stresses him out, waits for Niall to deny it.

He doesn’t. Just says quietly, _“Kendall, I’m sorry-”_

 _“And there you have it,”_ she says, sounding smug and satisfied. _“You’re all listening to a fraud-”_

_“I never meant to take him away from you-”_

_“But you did anyway. You’ve just lost all your credibility, Niall Horan,”_ she says, and Harry needs to get to him, now. Is almost there when she says, _“You’re a fraud, you took my boyfriend away from me, you little-”_

 _“Okay!”_ Nick cuts her off, and they can hear the audible slamming of the phone. _“Okay, that’s enough, you don’t know anything. Woah, all the stuff that happens when a show is live, yeah?”_ He tries to diffuse the tension, but it sounds forced. Harry sees the building come to view, and he stops across the street.

“Lou-”

“Yeah, I’ll park it, go!”

*

Niall almost can’t breathe. Removes his headphones with shaking hands and ignores Nick’s, Bagsy’s, everyone’s questions, their calls to call him back as he gets out of his seat, walks out of the studio.

He goes on walking, not really paying attention to where he goes, only takes the moment to breathe and break down when he gets to the empty elevator. Jabs at the ground level button, and hunches over as he cries, tries to get everything out but he can’t.

He knows what she said was true. But he never intended for any of it to happen. He never meant to fall for Harry. To love him, the way he does. Deeply, without question. Honestly, genuinely. He never meant to hurt anyone, most of all himself.

He gets out at the ground floor, and he tries to leave without anyone taking notice, but he doesn’t look where he’s going. Bumps into someone when he turns to go to the parking garage for employees, mumbles an apology, but freezes when he sees the person’s hand on his arm.

The cross inked near his thumb, the multiple rings give him away.

“Ni,” Harry says, trying to keep him there, but Niall pushes past him, goes to the elevator for parking.

“Don’t, Harry,” he says, wiping off his cheeks as he stalks off, and he knows Harry follows him anyway. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he replies meekly, softly so as to not attract too much attention. “I wanted to make sure that you were okay-”

“Are you stupid? Of course I’m not! You heard what happened,” he snaps at him, turning to face Harry. “I let this go too far, I can’t do this anymore!”

“Niall, please-”

“Do you want to know how I really felt, when I saw Zayn with Perrie?” he says. “I felt like I was being left by the person I loved most, all over again. I felt like I was transported back to the time when I found the fucking pregnancy test in the trash, I felt like I was getting my heart broken again. And do you know who I thought of, when I felt all of that?”

Harry looks at him, sad and concerned, waits for him to answer, but Niall is pretty sure that he knows who he's referring to.

"I thought of Kendall, of how she got fucked over, first by you, and then by me," Niall says, and a few more tears leak out from his eyes. "I couldn't even defend myself, Harry. Because I know she was right. She had a point, and I took you from her. She was just saying the truth."

"Her version of the truth, Niall, I broke up with her because I didn't feel the same way about her anymore," Harry explains softly. "I'm happy. Just looking at you makes me happy-"

"Don't," he spits, shaking his head, moving again to the elevator. "Don't. Please, enough."

"Ni," he tries again, trying to follow him into the elevator, but the guard blocks him, saying curtly, "Employees only."

"Niall, please, talk to me-"

Niall doesn't hear the rest of it, the elevator doors closing on him, and he slumps against the wall, hand to his chest as he tries to regulate his breathing, his crying. Runs to his car with a bit of difficulty, and starts the engine, not really paying attention to what he's doing, where he is. Just needs to get out of here, now.

He drives out, and he supposes it's by reflex that he drives home. Doesn't really recognize or register what's outside his window, where he's going and what he's doing. It's only when he's driven a few blocks away from the BBC does he realize his radio is on, to Nick's show. Goes to turn it off, not wanting to hear much more, when Grimmy calls him out.

 _"Niall! Wherever you are mate, please don't turn your radio off,"_ he says, pleads, and it makes Niall pause. _"Now, none of us know the whole story. None of us know what really happened, but Ni, please. It's not a crime, to have fallen in love with someone-"_

He scoffs, moves to turn it off, but it's like Nick can see what he's doing.

_"-Don't turn off your radio, you wanker. You always help people out when they've for problems, and that job is a lot harder than people realize. So please, let us help you. Let your Heroes be the one to do the saving, this time. If you want to help Niall, please call-"_

"No, what the fuck, you bloody twat," he mutters, turning the corner. "What the fuck are you doing?"

_"Okay, we've got our first caller! What do you have to say to our Heartbreak Hero?"_

_“Hey Hero, you know, you’ve always been there for us, so we’re here for you now. It’s a rare thing, to be in love the way you seem to be, and why would any of us fault you for that? Really-”_

“Oh my god, Nick you fucking prick,” he says, honking the car in front of him to move.

_“We’ve got another one! Go ahead, love, tell Niall what he should do.”_

_“You know, love is like that. Unpredictable, maybe unwanted. You can’t just force yourself to love someone, and you also can’t force yourself to just immediately not love someone. It’s just the way it is. You might not mean to hurt anyone, but it will happen, and sometimes, it’s okay. It’s inevitable.”_

_“Right you are, woah, got so many calls on the line”_ Nick says cheerfully, and Niall honestly doesn’t know if he loves or hates him for all of this. _“Right-o, hello? You’re on the air!”_

_“Mate, we learned from you that true love forgives. If Kendall really loves Harry, then one day, she will forgive him, and you as well. Don’t be affected by what happened on air, mate. You don’t know it, but a lot of your Heroes have wanted you to find someone for a long time. Someone who loves you, someone you love. You of all people deserve it.”_

_“Truer words have never been spoken,”_ Grimmy says, hitting the _‘applause’_ button. Niall doesn’t know how to react to all of this. Feels a bit overwhelmed, with all the attention and love coming from people who listen to him. _“Next caller, you’re on the air.”_

_“NIALL. Mate, it’s Louis-”_

_“And El!”_

The voices make him pause, an overwhelming fondness springing from his heart.

_“Niall, if we could only tell you how thankful we are for you."_

_"Really. I don't know if it will matter much to you, but you've no idea how happy we are that Harry threatened to sue you. Otherwise, he would never have met you."_

_"He would never have become who he is now. Still the same, really, but happier. More content and really. You should see him, when you're mentioned or when he sees you. Like you put all the bloody stars in the sky."_

_"He loves you. He really, really does. Please. Don't shut him out."_

Niall swallows at their words, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. They are nice words to hear.

 _"Amazing,_ " Grimmy says, and Niall can almost hear the grin coming through. _"Thank you, El and Lou. Next caller, you're on!"_

_"Ni, don't be daft. You love him."_

_"Oh, hey Soph!"_

_"Hi Nick. Liam's here too."_

_"Hi Niall. What Sophia said."_

_"Oh dear me! It's Liam Payne!"_

_"Shut up Grimmy. Anyway, Niall. I've known you for a long time. I've seen you get hurt and try to avoid pain at all costs. But some pain, some pain is worth it, you know? I know you've been hurt badly before by someone you loved, and it was devastating to see you like that. It was devastating, because you are the best person I know and you didn't deserve to be hurt that way._

_"But some pain is worth it, because you know you're getting much more from the outcome. I've seen the way you look at him. I've seen the way he looks at you. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you love each other, and there's nothing wrong with that."_

_"Niall, I know you're scared of hurting people, including yourself,"_ Sophia says, _"but you said it yourself, right? Pain comes with love. It just depends if the person is worth it. If Harry isn't daft, he knows that you're the type of person who'd be worth it. Do you think he is, though?"_

 _"This is amazing, best idea of my life,"_ Nick says much too happily. _"Okay! We've got time for a few more! Hello? Caller, you're on the air!"_

_"Niall?"_

He barely makes the brakes for the stoplight when he hears the voice.

_"Hey, um. It's Zayn. Been a while, yeah? I. I know I've got no excuse for what I did to you. I know I've done you a lot of wrong, and for that, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I promise. I did love you. Very much. You were the best part of my life for the better part of five years. I just didn't see it that way, when it was supposed to matter. I'm sorry. I really am._

_"I wanted to talk to you about what happened, but it just got harder and harder to pick up the phone and call your number. As soon as I figured out what I wanted to say, it just. Got difficult. I'm sorry."_

Niall feels a fresh onslaught of tears coming, but he represses them, drives when the light turns green. He's been waiting a year to hear all of this. And now, he realizes. It doesn't hurt as much anymore. The words just fill up the hollow part in his chest, and it's. Fulfilling. Feels like it's been a long time coming.

_"I hurt you. Many times. So I understand why you would stop trusting people and stop thinking that love was in the cards for you. But Ni, you have to know, of all the people I've known in my life, I've never met anyone who was so deserving of a great love. Honestly. I've never met anyone who's had the capacity to love the way you do._

_"So, I guess, what I'm trying to say is. If this Harry can make you reconsider, then I am so happy. I hope that whatever pain I've caused you, it doesn't stop you from going all in, from opening yourself up to love. I’ll only ever want the best for you, Ni. I hope that he loves you properly, the way I never did."_

Niall's breath catches in his throat. Can't believe that Zayn said all of that. That he admitted what he did, what they were, on the radio. It's come full circle, finally feels like that chapter really has closed.

 _"Thank you, Zayn,"_ Nick says, sounding soft and happy. _"Okay, one more, we can do one more. Hello?"_

_"Hey, Ni."_

"Fuck," Niall mutters when Harry's voice comes on, feels like he wants to cry again, wants to see him, loves him so.

_"I don't know what you want to hear from me, so I'll just tell you the truth. I love you. I do, so much."_

His chest pangs the tiniest bit. Like he's never wanted to hear any other words more.

_"I won't let anyone talk badly about you. I won't let the whole bloody world see you as a bad person just because you fell in love with me."_

He parks the car outside the gate, not having the energy to have to bring his car inside, but he stays in his seat, breathing deeply. Listens to Harry’s deep voice as he thinks this over.

_“I chose you, you know? I’d choose you. They say that sometimes you can’t control love, who you fall for, who falls in love with you. But there is a choice, too. You choose who you want to be with, who you let in. I didn’t plan this, Niall, didn’t exactly expect to love you the way I do. But I’d choose you, because I want to. I don’t think I ever told you this, but when you were helping me become a better person for someone else, my heart decided to play with me. Told me to look at you, and I never looked back. I only want you, if you’ll have me. I love you. Please open your door.”_

Niall moves his head so fast he thinks it might have snapped a bit, but outside his window, Harry standing by another car with his phone held up to his ear. He’s smiling softly, and Niall loves him.

_“Ooooohhhhhhh, did you follow him, you bugger-”_

“I’m hanging up now, bye Grimmy,” he says, and locks his phone before putting it back in his pocket, all the while looking at Niall. “Please. Come here?”

Niall stares at him, gripping the wheel nervously, but Harry smiles again, and he can’t not go to him. He gets out, walks slowly to him staring at the ground, but only when they’re toe to toe does he look up. Sees Harry gazing at him with this fond look in his eyes, shy and nervous and excited and lovely.

_“Oi! Does anyone know- Oh! Lou’s just texted me! Said it looks like they’re about to snog! Amazing, this is-”_

“Lou,” Harry calls out, still staring at Niall fondly.

“Sorry! You go do your thing!” he yells in reply, and Niall realizes that he, and he suspects Eleanor as well, are inside the other car, but he only thinks about it for a fleeting moment. Then, thinks about the boy in front of him who looks so in love. Knows he feels the same way, about said boy.

He opens his mouth, tries to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Huffs a bit in frustration, because he almost always has something to say, but right now, he can’t come up with the words.

Harry’s smile widens the tiniest bit, and he holds out his hand for him to take. Niall hardly gives it a moment’s thought before he slides his hand into his offered palm, the touch welcoming and warm and familiar.

“I love you, you know,” he says finally, and it comes surprisingly easy to him. Feels like it’s been at the tip of his tongue, all this time.

“I didn’t,” Harry replies quietly. “I didn’t know. But I love you too. Thank you. I love you.”

Niall closes his eyes at his words, feeling overwhelmed in the best way, and he leans towards him, resting his forehead against Harry’s. Has never felt quite so content in his life.

“I like your shirt,” he murmurs, pulling at the fluorescent yellow button-up with red flowers, and it suits him, really. “You look more like yourself in it.”

“My boy told me he liked this kind of thing on me,” Harry says, the grin audible in his voice. “Though, to be frank, I can look good in anything-”

He squawks when Niall pinches his nipple, pulling away as he rubs at the afflicted area. “What did you do that for?”

“For being a twat,” Niall snorts, “you ruined the moment, you idiot.”

“Depends on your definition of ‘ruined’-”

“You ruined it,” Niall says, slipping one hand into the open flap of Harry’s shirt, palm pressed against his hard chest, the other hand on the back of his neck as he pulls him towards him, their lips meeting in a kiss that Harry returns immediately, enthusiastically.

*

_(an epilogue, of sorts)_

“Top o’ the morning to ya!” Grimmy yells into his microphone, much too loud for this early in the morning.

“Yes, good morning,” Niall says, much more subdued, into his own mic, with a small smile on his face.

“Oh, what’s this? Our Hero a little tired this morning, eh?” he grins, eyebrows waggling as he gives Niall a sly smile.

“Shut it Grimshaw, you can’t be so indecent so bleeding early in the morning,” Niall mutters, earning a laugh from Nick. “Good morning, it’s Niall here, your Heartbreak Hero. Remember, if you’ve got a love problem, you can send in through Twitter, @NiallOfficial, with the hashtag #HeartbreakHero, or you can call in at 03700 100 100-”

The door opens, and, to his great surprise, Harry comes in, carrying a box in his arms and a great big grin on his face as he walks towards Niall.

“Ohhh, if you lot can’t see what’s happening, Ni’s boy just came in,” Nick says, and Niall throws his half-eaten bread roll at him.

“Hiiiiiii,” Harry leans over and says into Niall’s mic, and he drops the box right in front of him. “Open it.”

“What?” Niall says, unfocused as he looks up at Harry’s beaming face. “I’m working, if you can’t see-”

“Oh, it’s all good, I cleared this with Bagsy,” Harry says, sounding so proud of himself. “Come on, open it.”

“Harry, you’re a bloody idiot,” Niall shakes his head, and, as if looking for more ways to get him even more irritated, Harry pushes his chair back, and settles himself in his lap. “Haz-”

“Open it,” he repeats his request, smile still on his face.”Please?”

“Jesus,” Niall sighs, and he maneuvers around him to get at the box. Undoes the ribbon around it, and when he removes the lid, it’s-

“A cake,” he says blankly, and it looks a little. Pathetic. Tells Harry just as much.

“Hey, I made that with love,” he pouts, and he gives Niall a kiss on the cheek, saying sweetly, “Happy birthday, love.”

“Thank you, but if this cake is vegan like last year’s-”

“Nope! Used real butter and chocolate, just for you,” Harry smiles at him, adjusting on his lap and reeling him in for a proper kiss on the mouth.

“Where’s my cake, Magpie?” Nick frowns at him, peering into the box and pulling a disgusted face at the cake. “Nevermind, did you not put frosting? And is that a bloody _flower crown,_ on top of it?”

“Who needs frosting when you’ve got love?” Harry says, and Niall twists his nipple, glaring at him.

“You bleeding idiot,” he says, and Harry just grins at him even more, cuddling him and nuzzling into his neck. “I’ve got a show to do, shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Composition, Niall! We hardly ever meet for sessions, the teacher always tells us to get inspiration, so great,” Harry replies, hitching his legs up higher, so Niall is forced to hold on to his thigh. “Anyway, first caller!”

“Harry, that’s my line.”

“Fine, I’ll come pick you up for lunch!” Harry concedes, not looking the least bit put out, and he presses a long kiss on his cheek, mumbling against his skin, “Love youuuuuuuuuuu.”

“Oh my god, get out,” Niall says, blushing as Grimmy grins at them fondly, and he slaps Harry’s butt to try to get him moving, which just causes him to laugh loudly as he makes to get up. “I love you too, bye,” he mumbles quickly, but Harry beams at him, kissing him on the mouth quickly for good measure.

“Yay, he said it, did you hear that, Nick-”

“Harry, I swear,” Niall goes so red, a little thankful that this is radio and the people who see him blush are limited, allows Harry one more kiss before he goes bouncing out of the room.

“So,” Nick grins, “birthday boy must have gotten some last-”

“First caller!” Niall almost yells into his mic, pretty sure that this birthday will be like last year’s. Amazing, then.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Filipino film, "Won't Last A Day Without You."
> 
>  
> 
> [Say hello!](http://www.castlestylan.tumblr.com)


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